


One Way or Another

by AphoticW



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Alternate universe - Mafia, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arranged Marriage, Artist Katsuki Yuuri, Asphyxiation, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Backstory, Blood and Gore, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Complicated Relationships, Courtroom Drama, Crimes & Criminals, Cussing, Dancing, Dark Victor Nikiforov, Dirty Talk, Dominant Victor Nikiforov, Drunk Sex, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Baggage, Emotionally Repressed, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Fist Fights, Frottage, Gay Katsuki Yuuri, Gun Violence, Holidays, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Racism, Las Vegas, Love, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Mafia Katsuki Yuuri, Martial Arts, Men Crying, New York City, News Media, Organized Crime, Past Bisexual Victor Nikiforov, Playlist, Real Locations but with different names sometimes, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Russia, Russian Mafia, Social Media, Spanking, Substance Abuse, Sugar Daddy Victor Nikiforov, Suspense, Tattooed Katsuki Yuuri, Tattoos, Tokyo (City), Top Victor Nikiforov, Use of Historical Places/Names, Violence, Why Did I Write This?, erotic asphyxiation, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-29 10:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16262822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphoticW/pseuds/AphoticW
Summary: He couldn't think of anything else he would rather be doing right now. He realized at a young age he was an adrenaline fiend, and nothing incited a fire in the pit of his stomach like killing someone.Katsuki Yuuri is a killer for hire--mostly notably tied with the Inagawa-kai family. He is given the task to execute a Russian with little to no knowledge about his target. A challenge like this has never crossed his path before.Yakuza/Assassin/Mafia - AU.





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I know I should be working on my other fic, but this idea struck me and I just had to get it down. This is gonna be a short multi-chapter fic, maybe like 3-4 chapters at most. Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> *Lol this ended up being a full fledged story because I can't control myself.

He hated Russia. 

It was brisk, and he loathed the harsh language that took him years to even comprehend. At least St. Petersburg was more populated and he could bide his time with local shops and delicious cuisine. It sort of subtly reminded him of his beloved homeland, but nothing could ever compared to the city lights of Tokyo. He was quite fond of pirozhki and was currently devouring one at lightning speed. The bench he had parked himself on was biting through the numerous layers he donned. While tossing his scraps into the garbage bin next to him he gently pulled his navy scarf tighter around his brawny neck. 

The wind blew wildly around him as he pulled the ball cap perched precariously on his head lower to mask his dull eyes. He glanced cautiously over the rim of his glasses as the flimsy door about forty yards from him creaked open. Two men exited the building, he noted as he propped his elbows lazily on his knees. 

The first man to come out was a scrawny guy. He was maybe 160 centimeters, but his lithe body flowed effortlessly as he made his way to a motorcycle. He had his golden hair pulled back and his emerald eyes danced around as he made light conversation with the other Russian. 

This Russian was vastly different. He was slender however he had a broad chest that puffed out with every word he spoke. The cold didn't seem to bother him since he sported a thin jacket that was unzipped to reveal a tattered wife beater underneath. His frail hands were battered and bruised as his right hand reached up to card through his thinning hair. He had a rather high hairline, and his silver locks fell randomly in front of his cerulean eyes. 

This was the first time he had seen the odd pair at this specific location. He had been following the grey-haired man for almost three days now, and by now he usually would retreat back to his hotel room. He was prepared to complete his task tonight. So he had to make sure there wasn't any lose ends he would have to tie up. He didn't feel like having to deal with a spare body. 

They reached the motorcycle which another man was leaning against and the blonde flung an arm around the muscled shoulders of the man with a fierce scowl. The Russian made a quip at both of them about being safe and tossed a humorous wink in their direction before sauntering leisurely to the cracked sidewalk. 

That was his cue to get up and follow the man. As he began the chase, his phone blared loudly in his pocket. The man scrambled frantically for a second as he brought the mobile device up to his ear. 

“Yes, Takeshi?” 

“Katsuki, have you completed the task yet?” 

“Not yet. I'm tailing him now back to his apartment, but it will get done tonight.” He mumbled back into the phone in fluent Japanese as he took his time leaning against the railing of a bridge. He glanced back at his intended target to see he was still a good twenty yards ahead of him. 

“Text me immediately when it's done. The Oyabun has explicitly said that man cannot make it to Vegas.” Takeshi retorted fiercely with a firm tone. 

“You know, he didn't provide me enough information on this guy. Is there anyway you can send a file over?” 

“There isn't much, but I can see what I can do. Hurry up and get the job done, Yuuri.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” And with that Yuuri ended the phone call. He could still see the man a bit down the crooked road so he decided to pick up his pace. The Russian made a sudden turn into his apartment building as Yuuri rounded the corner. 

Fortunately, the man lived in a populated area so Yuuri's hotel room was just across the street from his shabby apartment. He highly suggested pulling out his VSS Vintorez, chamber one in and plant one in the guy's skull. However, he was told to make it look like a home invasion. As he climbed the steps to his hotel room, he chuckled at the notion of it. He was still playing out all the viable options in his head as he entered his room. 

He was appreciative they set him up in a penthouse. It was spacious enough so that he could lounge around on the days his target decided to be a homebody. Yuuri discarded his plush coat as he strutted into the room. He fiddled with the strap of his shoulder harness before allowing his hands roam to the metal within the holster. He carefully plucked the loaded handgun from its place and set it on the minibar. He let his fingers dance over the ornate molding on the butt of his Ruger and shredded his shoulder piece flicking it onto his personal luggage. 

He didn't bring much with him this trip, but he had maybe enough clothes to last him the rest of the week. He flipped open his laptop on the desk as he nimbly popped the buttons open on his dress shirt. He let the rigid material to fall to the floor as he instantly pulled up his email on the device. 

He let the computer load for a few moments as walked into the restroom. He let his graceful palms graze the polished granite before he flipped on the frigid water in the sink. He dunked his calloused hands into the flowing stream of water and splashed some of it onto his gaunt face. He craned his neck as he glared back at his reflection in the mirror. 

His skin was marred with a few puckering scars. He fingered the dent on the right side of his ribs as he continued examining himself in the large mirror. The past bullet wound was still sensitive to his touch as his deft fingers skimmed around it. The left side of his body was littered with elaborate tattoos only stopping just below his nipple. He let his right hand reach up to ghost his fingertips across the Oni on his pectoral. 

The ogre displayed a fierce growl on his expressive face and was surrounded by beautiful cherry blossoms that contrasted against the black background. The rest of his left arm was painted with swirls and a few more characters. He especially liked the trickster fox that his artist incorporated during his prior session. Yuuri planned on starting the right side of his tattoos when he returned to Shinjuku. Minako was talented as she was terrifying, and he knew to never miss an appointment. 

He exited the restroom as his computer pinged annoyingly and Yuuri groaned as he rushed over to the device. He saw his phone tap was active and that he had a choice to listen or not. He instantly connected into the phone call and let the audio play out through his computer speakers. 

Fast Russian was spewing from the laptop and Yuuri thanked his past self for learning the choppy language. 

_“Viktor! We are going to Mid-Section tonight, are you coming?”_

_“I am exhausted and have to leave for Las Vegas on Monday. I am not really feeling going to the club tonight, Mila.”_ Viktor's cheery voice was airy and gentle as he responded to his unknown friend. The charming woman whined on the other end of the phone and Yuuri just rolled his eyes at her words. 

_“Come on! You deserve to relax a bit before the big event. You might even go home with someone.”_ Mila teased back. Yuuri's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he hovered over his laptop. 

“That's it!” Yuuri exclaimed eagerly to himself. He stumbled over to the humongous window that over looked Viktor's apartment anxiously hoping to see the Russian. 

Luckily, he was standing on his private balcony in a pair of sweats and nothing else. Yuuri was astonished that he was unphased by the air nipping at his sleek skin. He had never seen Viktor without a shirt on before and he took a minute to gawk at the man's impressive physique. He was all toned muscle and Yuuri could barely make out the cords in his arms as the man grabbed onto the ceiling above him absentmindedly. The shallow dip of his hips was dangerous as Yuuri eyed the Russian lewdly. 

“Get it together, Katsuki. You're working.” He grumbled to himself as he continued listening attentively to the phone tap as he moved away from the floor to ceiling window. 

Finally after a lot of deliberating Viktor agreed to go to the club with his friend. Yuuri was grateful for his choice and knew he would have to be at the club in an hour. He figured he could try and portray the part of seducer tonight. He made his way over to his luggage as he stripped the ebony dress pants from his sore legs and started digging in the overnight bag. 

He couldn't remember the last time he was at a club but he had to make sure the Russian would be glamoured by him. He was elated to see he had packed the his favorite dress shirt he typically wore during his outings in Tokyo. He pulled that over his head and yanked the sleeves down to make sure it covered the ink on his arm before fiddling with his silver cuff links. He didn't need anyone committing the distinctive tattoos to memory. 

He willingly chose to also go with a pair of form fitting dress pants that hugged his ass, but left a bit of room in the thigh area. He required that extra room for his holster. He sat on the plush bed as he cradled the Ruger SR1911 in his masterful hands. He double checked the safety was clicked on and stuffed it into the holster strapped to his thigh. He stood effortlessly and pulled the slacks all the way up to his waist and fastening his leather belt. He decided against his pair of combat boots and instead went for his newly polished Oxfords. They didn't leave any room for a knife, but he figured he would just slip one into an ankle holster before he left.

Yuuri spent a few more minutes gathering his passport, wallet, and clasping a different watch to his left wrist. He wanted to create the illusion that he was a wealthy business man out for a night on the town. So he had thankfully packed his Rolex. It was a gift given to him from the Oyabun after his previous mission. He was appalled when he was handed the 1.9 million-yen watch. He couldn't help but adore it. It filled his heart with pride every time it glistened in the lighting. The ebony and golden undertones were highlighted by the piercing silver band. It was an elegant piece of craftsmanship, and he was certain it would add to the story he was fabricating about himself tonight.

He carefully slipped on his signet ring as well and figured no one in Russia would recognize the controversial symbol he sported. He smiled a bit as he gazed at the ring and let his finger thumb at the minor engraving of wheat on the front of it. He couldn't think of anything else he would rather be doing right now. He realized at a young age he was an adrenaline fiend, and nothing incited a smouldering fire in the pit of his stomach like killing someone. 

His first kill was when he was sixteen years old, and he still recalls the mild euphoria running through his veins afterwards. He was dragged into the Inagawa-kai family once his family's charming inn became a hot spot for the sketchy characters. He noticed more and more of them would frequent the hot springs, and also noticed how much better off his father and mother were. There was no more skipped dinners and sleepless nights spent sewing his ragged clothes with mother. But with these men spending lots of time soaking in the springs, that gave way to Yuuri inadvertently stepping into that life. 

Yuuri was pretty satisfied that he had everything he would need for this evening. He made sure all his belongings were ready to grab once he returned and turned to slip on his coat. The peacoat completed his ensemble was happy to see he left his leather gloves in the inner pocket. He pulled those on hastily as he left his hotel room. 

He said a curt goodbye to the front clerk and whistled sharply at a taxi. He stuck his hand in the air to motion the car in his direction before it skidded to a stop in front of him. He climbed nimbly into the back seat and yanked the ends of his coat tighter against his body to ward off the distinct chill. 

“Mid-Section, please.” He muttered in Russian before the car lurched south-bound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I figured I would mention a few components I added in this chapter.
> 
> 1\. A VSS Vintorez is a suppressed sniper rifle with that uses a 9x39mm cartridge. It's a hell of a gun.  
> 2\. Yuuri's preferred handgun is a Ruger SR1911 with .45 ACP rounds, they are hollow point which causes the bullet to tear through more tissue since it expands.  
> 3\. Mid-Section is based on a real club in St. Petersburg called Central Station.  
> 4\. Yuuri's rolex is the Cosmograph Daytona Rolex. It is priced at 16,900 USD dollars and is a self winding watch that can withstand 330 feet when submerged in water.  
> 5\. Yuuri's ring bears the symbol of the Inagawa-kai family, which is a real Yakuza organization. They make most of their profits from illegal gambling. Their symbol is two strands of wheat tied together with a ribbon and a "M" looking symbol in between.
> 
> Title of this story comes from the song. I kept playing One Way or Another by Until the Ribbon Breaks as I was writing this.


	2. Act II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you are all sticking around! Thanks for all the kudos, friends. It means a ton. (:

The club was overwhelming and chaotic. Half-naked men strutted around with a few women scantily dressed scattered throughout. They were handing complimentary drinks around like candy and Yuuri could occasionally witness the passing of pills among the boisterous crowd. The peculiar lights were blinding and whirling all around to the thrumming of a familiar song with a deep tempo. The walls were ebony and plush as Yuuri rested against the wall adjacent to the enormous bar. Bottles upon bottles were stacked high behind the lively bar. He figured camping out near the edge of the bar would make him stand out more, and perhaps attract one specific Russian. 

He glanced at the time on his watch and gently let his hands wander up to adjust his glasses. He chuckled a bit as his hands briefly caressed his own cheek, he forgot he had substituted his glasses for contacts before leaving. He shook his head softly to himself before flicking his burning eyes up to the charming bartender. His infectious grin grew broader as he leaned towards Yuuri. 

“What will it be?” He eagerly questioned in Russian. 

Yuuri took his time in meeting the charismatic man halfway and drummed his dainty fingers against the bar in thought. The bartenders hand was outstretched before him, so Yuuri let his calloused finger tips graze ever so slightly against the top of the bartender's hand. Yuuri's eyes lit up as he instantly flashed a dazzling smile back at the man. “An Old-fashioned, please.” 

The bartender blushed intensely before nodding energetically and flew off to make Yuuri's request. 

Amber eyes surveyed the entire vicinity of the bar, and Yuuri was becoming anxious. He couldn't find his target anywhere, but he was so sure he followed stealthily in after the grey-haired man. The cover for the exclusive club was ridiculous and if he wasn't on the job he wouldn't have dared to pay such an outrageous fee. He knew the lively man he was tailing was impeccably dressed in skin tight jeans that were ripped in strategic places and a dry-fit ebony shirt. The black of his shirt clashed against the pale skin of his intended target. However, Yuuri couldn't argue Viktor did look absolutely ravishing in that outfit. It was going to be hard to spot him clothing-wise so he was hoping to see a flash of greyish hair among the crowd. 

His cocktail was placed in front of him, and Yuuri slyly slipped a few rubles and a hefty tip into the man's open palm. The bartender muttered a thank-you and shifted off to help other patrons. Yuuri took the time to nurse his drink leisurely since he knew his body's tolerance to alcohol. He knew Takeshi always enjoyed bringing up last year's New Years event when Yuuri earned the nickname "Lightweight." 

A harsh change to the music occurred, and he recognized the American tune. He permited his agile body to sway rhythmically a bit to the complex music as he kept his eyes peeled. However, he almost jumped out of his skin when a person sauntered up next to him and bumped him slightly on the arm. Yuuri craned his neck up to encounter penetrating eyes raving over him. 

Viktor himself was perched up against the wall next to him with stout arms crossed over his chest. He was glistening with profuse sweat and bared his pearly teeth in a satisfied grin. 

“Do you speak English?” Viktor's accented voice rang merrily throughout Yuuri's ears over the bop of the music. Yuuri brought his drink up to his rosy lips to let them gently tease against the rim before nodding. 

The Russian hummed in happily before leaning down to let his breath wash over Yuuri's cheeks. “My name is Viktor, and you are?” 

“Yuuri.” He responded as he turned his body toward the other man. Viktor's nimble tongue darted out to moisten his lips. It was such an erotic, but simple movement that Yuuri found his breath instantly catching within his throat. Viktor was almost a head taller than Yuuri, and he now had the Russian looming over him with a pale hand splayed against the wall above Yuuri's head.

“Would you care to dance, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri took a moment to down his intoxicating drink and eagerly pushed the glass across the bar top. The bartender was there within seconds collecting the glass. Once he turned back around, he leaned into the Russian and let his hands rest on the brawny pectorals of the man before him. He let his nails barely dig into the skin under his hands as he tip-toed up slightly to reach Viktor's left ear. He could feel the gorgeous man beneath him shiver as Yuuri let his lips linger fondly against Viktor's ear. 

“I'd be delighted.” He crooned. 

Viktor growled fiercely as he yanked Yuuri's body to his own. The crushing force of Viktor's grasp against his wrist was alarming, but Yuuri simply let himself be dragged onto the dance floor. It was crowded with thralls of glistening bodies pressed against each other in euphoria. He didn't particularly like clubs since there was no room to barely breathe, but something about being cradled in the sturdy arms of this man was comforting. He could feel his consuming anxiety depreciating as they reached the center of the dance floor. 

The high-pitched vocals of the explicit song sucked Yuuri into the beat of the song as Viktor slammed his chest into Yuuri's back. He could feel the Russian's hands park themselves on Yuuri's nimble hips as the infectious beat picked up after a few lines of vocals. Yuuri seized the chance to ground his backside into the groin of the man behind him, and he could hear the audible groan flowing through his ears. The Japanese man let his own hands wander backwards up to the brawny neck of the man behind him. Using his neck as an anchor, he gracefully swayed his hips side to side and let his right leg wander backwards in between Viktor's lanky legs. 

Yuuri took that chance to spin of the balls of his heels and use Viktor's belt loops to steer Viktor back towards him. Viktor had a look of surprise on his radiant face as he let his eyes flutter close to the notes of the song. Yuuri took the chance to really observe the impressive man before him. He had never gotten this close to a client before execution. But Viktor was absolutely breath taking. 

Sure, he had a few bruises littering his porcelain like features—but he was angelic in the way he sang off-key to the foreign song. Yuuri could barely make out the words coming out of his mouth, but he couldn't help but let his eager hand wander up to tenderly caress his prominent cheekbones. His thumb traced the line of a shallow cut gently and Yuuri thought on how he could have received such a mark. Viktor's eyes snapped back open at the motion, and he could see him grit his teeth slightly. 

Viktor leaned down as the lively crowd howled with the song during the second chorus. His shapely nose skimmed the taut muscles within Yuuri's neck before he felt the pad of Viktor's tongue swipe across Yuuri's pulse point. The Japanese man bellowed out a mighty groan as he tugged on the man's belt loops once again to bring their hips flush. Soon teeth merely grazed his skin and Viktor's hands slipped to the small of Yuuri's back and urged him even further into the embrace. Yuuri grinned lewdly when he could feel Viktor's want beneath the fabric. 

All too soon the song ended and the tone shifted to a softer techno beat. Viktor was once again at his ear and was running his nose now across the arch of Yuuri's ear. 

“So beautiful,” He murmured in Russian. 

Yuuri took the chance to place his finger delicately under the man's stubbly chin and lift his face up so they were gazing at each other. 

“I could say the same thing.” He replied in fluent Russian. Viktor's pupils expanded leaving almost no blue to admire after Yuuri's words. Finally, Viktor threaded his dexterous fingers harshly through Yuuri's hair and jerked his head up to capture his lips in a searing kiss. 

Yuuri was taken back by the passion behind Viktor's fluid motion, but easily fell into a heated rhythm with him. He felt confident enough to let his tongue deftly slip between the Russian's lips and flick against his. Viktor moaned deeply into Yuuri's mouth as Viktor's bottom lip was taken in between Yuuri's teeth for a gentle nibble. Viktor's hands retreated from Yuuri's hair as he took a step back breathing heavily. Viktor's fumbling hands moved up to rub over his face and Yuuri was very confused by all the bandages littering his fingers and knuckles. He moved one of his own hands out to trace the stained bandages. 

“I tend to mess up my hands a lot with my job. Don't worry about me.” Viktor said cheerfully. He made a motion as if to head back to the bar and Yuuri followed obediently. 

Yuuri couldn't help but admire the man's ass as he strutted in front of him. He was definitely grateful for Viktor's gym habit now since Yuuri was currently presented with such an exquisite specimen. He wanted to reach out and dig his fingers within the flesh, but he soothed himself with a few long exhales. A shameful part of Yuuri begged him not to complete his mission—begged him to pull the Russian into his hotel room and fuck him senseless. It had been a minute since Yuuri enjoyed any human interaction. It wasn't like he possessed very much time since he was always working, but he desired _something_. He missed the tangle of limbs, the feel of hands marring his skin and the heat of another man's chest against his back. The last time he could remember was an intoxicated night in Switzerland with a burly man who had the softest blonde curls and who spoke no English. Yuuri could still hear purr of French in his memory when he needed some erotic material to think back on. 

Yuuri shook his head to clear his brain of the intruding thoughts. No, he was supposed to complete the mission and head back to Japan by tomorrow afternoon. He _had_ to do this. He had to silence the exotic beauty before him for some unknown reason. He wished he knew the reason behind this specific target, but he had never received the email from Takeshi about this particular man. He would be sure to have words with him once he returned to the Honbu. 

Viktor was currently ordering a round of shots as Yuuri propped his elbows against the bar top. Viktor was completely flushed, and a rosy tint reached the very tips of his ears. 

He was drunk. 

Yuuri was grateful the man was intoxicated. It would make this so much easier on him, and maybe the man wouldn't put up a fight. That would be ideal. Soon more drinks were produced in front of him and Yuuri was appalled to see six shots of vodka placed in front of them. Viktor noticed Yuuri's bugged out eyes and laughed carelessly. 

“You are in Russia. Therefore, you must drink like a proper Russian!” He exclaimed joyously with a slur to his words. Viktor picked up a singular shot and pushed one towards Yuuri. “Have you ever heard of Russian Roulette?” 

Yuuri barked out a hearty laugh at his words and nodded his head. 

“Six shots and one is actual vodka. The rest is water, darling.” Viktor said with a grinning creeping up to the corners of his mouth. Yuuri sighed heavily as he brought the shot up to his lips at the same time as Viktor.

“Za Lyubov!” Viktor called out before downing his shot. Yuuri followed suit and instantly regretted his decision. He had received the unfortunate shot of bitter vodka. 

Viktor had not grimaced after swallowing his drink and was laughing with his hands placed on his belly. 

“I am sorry, Yuuri. Seems like you already lost. Here, have a water chaser.” Viktor said as he forcefully pushed another shot towards Yuuri. Yuuri huffed a heavy breath out in minor annoyance before flicking the shot into his mouth. 

Yuuri almost spat the liquid out of his burning mouth. 

“That was a dirty trick!” Yuuri seethed as the vodka burned fiercely down his hoarse throat. 

Viktor was full on chortling through tears now. 

“They're all vodka shots, aren't they?” Yuuri aggressively questioned.

“I couldn't help myself. It was quite worth it to see the look on your lovely face.” Viktor said in between gasps of air. Viktor was even more alluring when he was laughing. Something about his contagious chuckle made Yuuri even smile slightly. 

Two could play at that game. Yuuri snatched one of the shots off the bar top and let the liquid once more flow through his plump lips. He tried to bit back the frown as he held the liquid in his mouth. Once he struck the glass against on the table, he turned his sights to Viktor and yanked the Russian's grinning mouth against his own once more. The vodka flowed effortlessly between them and Viktor happily let the alcohol paint his lips and seep into his mouth. 

The men pulled away once more after a few breathless seconds of teasing and Yuuri caught the sight of Viktor's tongue peaking out to lap at the alcohol dripping from his lips. A new fire was lit behind the eyes of the Russian as he snagged both the shots off the bar top and gulped them down like it was no problem. 

The smacking of glass against polished wood startled Yuuri, but his view was obstructed as Viktor leaned down once more. His alcoholic breath washed over Yuuri's face as he grinned foolishly. Yuuri could also feel the fierce grip of Viktor's hands on his ass as he was pulled against his chest. 

“Come home with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some author's notes about the chapter,
> 
> 1\. The song I was imaging them dancing to was Animals by Maroon 5.  
> 2\. The man Yuuri was reminiscing about was in fact Christophe.  
> 3\. A "Honbu" is a Home Office to a Yakuza.  
> 4\. I am not sure if this is a Russian game per se, but the drinking game Russian Roulette is played with 6 shots--like a revolver. 5 out of 6 shots are filled with water and one is a vodka shot.  
> 5\. Za Lyubov is a Russian toast to love.
> 
> Explicit stuff to come next chapter, so if that isn't your cup of tea the continue on to Act IV once it comes out. You can also find me on tumblr since I revived that at the link below.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aphoticwriter


	3. Act III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Explicit sexual content in this chapter. Skip to next chapter if that isn't your style.

The bass in the club vibrated through his chest as he was yanked through the massive crowd. The harsh burn of the wind against his blushing cheeks jolted him out of his stupor slightly when he reached the side of the curb with Viktor. The whirlwind-wind of a man before him was running his hands devilishly down his sides as he placed opened mouthed kisses down the side of Yuuri's wry neck. The Japanese man groaned as he stepped keeping contact away by threading his fingers through Viktor's bandaged hands. Viktor was grinning ear to ear and panting like a rabid dog. Yuuri found it so attractive, he couldn't believe a man of this caliber was so destroyed by boring, ole' him. 

“Do I need to hail a taxi?” Yuuri eagerly questioned while quirking his eyebrow. Viktor only shook his head and motioned toward a black Cadillac that eased up in front of them. Yuuri chuckled to himself as he was ushered inside of the SUV. He instantly recalled the same vehicle dropping Viktor off not too long ago. He was surprised that the man had his own chauffeur, but any target that Yuuri ever had was always of some high importance. 

But what was Viktor? 

Yuuri still couldn't place it. 

They promptly settled in the back seat of the vehicle, and Viktor's voice was almost completely droned out by the sound of a song blaring through the car's speakers. There was conveniently a privacy window that was blacked out to intentionally block out their activities as Yuuri was pushed to lay with his back against the seat. Viktor seized his chance to hover over the smaller man and let his fingers edge under Yuuri's shirt. His frozen hands fondled the taut muscles of the Japanese man's abdomen as Viktor's sinister grin spread across his face once more. 

“You are absolutely delectable.” He murmured before luring Yuuri in for another brutal kiss. Viktor's stubble rubbed against Yuuri's delicate skin, but he welcomed the delicious sensation. The feeling caused Yuuri to groan into the man's mouth as his shapely arms encircled around Viktor's neck. He could hear soft coos in Russian as Viktor ground his hips down into Yuuri's. 

Yuuri was suddenly profoundly aware of the situation he was in. Damn, his low alcohol tolerance. He couldn't let Viktor get his hands any lower because he was certain that the gun strapped to his thigh would be a mood killer. He had to make sure he could get Viktor in a comprised position to accomplish his job. At this point however Yuuri was more worried about the clean up. He hadn't been very cautious about touching the man or sharing _DNA_ with him. He knew now this was infinitely more difficult. He would have to get rid of Viktor's body after this if this strayed any farther.

His train of thought flew out the window once again as Viktor's hands did start to run south, and palmed him confidently through his slacks. Yuuri hissed between clenched teeth as he went to sit up. However he was forced back down once again, but now his wrists were pinned above his head. His watch bit into the skin at his sore wrist and he was sure there would be marks tomorrow from the act. He was completely at this man's mercy. Yuuri couldn't believe the raw strength Viktor possessed. He would have to remember that for later in case a scuffle occurred. 

The car screeched to a halt and Yuuri yelped as his head bounced off the passenger side door. He was pulled up by his wrists and hurriedly ushered out of the car. 

It was a tornado of crooked stairs as he ran after Viktor to his apartment. The vice grip on his wrist only tightened when he was slammed against the wood door with his wrists above his head again. This time Viktor didn't make a move to caress him, but instead stared at him intently with his hooded eyes. He seemed a bit more sober but his heavy panting was music to Yuuri's ears. The man before him was wrecked, and confidence flowed through Yuuri at the sight of this man. 

“Last chance. Do you want to come inside?” Viktor asked as he trailed his nose down the edge of Yuuri's jaw. Everything inside of him was telling him to flee. Just get the job done with his sniper like he originally wanted. 

Something was holding him back. Something about the way Viktor looked at him. 

Something about this man was like being trapped within a box. There was no escape unless you destroyed the box from within. He knew this was his way in, but that he would be damned at this point if he wasn't going to enjoy himself. 

“Yes, Viktor.” He whispered passionately. Not even a second later he was frantically pushed into the dimly lit apartment and had the Russian at his back again.

His coat was shredded and tossed somewhere unknown. Viktor was in the middle of flinging off his own coat when Yuuri made his way towards the back end of the apartment. He purposefully swayed his hips to the same tune he heard in the car as he turned on his heels. He crooked his finger at the man and tossed his head back baring his neck. He allowed his tongue come out lazily to swipe at his chapped lips. 

Viktor was once more on him within moments tearing away at the buttons on his shirt. Terrible panic flooded through Yuuri and he halted Viktor's hands. 

“Where's your restroom?” He breathed out as Viktor growled in frustration. 

“Door on the left before the bedroom.”

“Let me freshen up.” 

“I'll meet you in there, darling.” Viktor responded as he withdrew himself from Yuuri and sauntered into his bedroom. Yuuri exhaled heavily and slipped into Viktor's restroom. 

It was surprisingly tidy. He didn't take Viktor as a neat freak when he was monitoring him. Yuuri took that moment to push his pants to his knees and wrench the gun from his holster. He carefully placed it against the sink before unclasping the holster at his thigh. He folded it up expertly and jammed it into his back pocket along with his boot knife. He was sure Viktor wouldn't question a knife in his pocket if he were to find it. He would have to somehow get Viktor distracted enough to conceal his weapon. He took one last glimpse at himself in the mirror trying to psych himself up again. He looked like he had just rolled out of a twenty-four-hour nap. His hair was disheveled, hickies adorning his neck like the tattoos slapped onto his arm. He knew Viktor could not see those. He was hoping Viktor was also daft enough to let him keep his shirt on. He didn't need sensitive questions from the Russian about the hideous scars and his ornate tattoos. 

Yuuri left the bathroom with ease as he grasped the pistol behind his back. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, so Yuuri nudged it open with his knee. The sight before him made the breath catch in his throat. 

Viktor was sprawled across ebony sheets with one eager hand working on himself tirelessly. The other hand rubbed insistently back and forth across his pectorals. Yuuri seriously underestimated how sculpted Viktor was when he was peeping on him the past few days. He was on par with how Yuuri looked. Yuuri was fully aware on how well his body looked. He worked day in and day out for it. He was an efficient machine and if it wasn't well oiled he wouldn't be coming home with a check. 

Viktor caught Yuuri's fierce gaze and groaned out in euphoria before sitting up on his knees. He craned his neck to the side, and Yuuri could detect the sound of cracking bones at the fluid motion. Yuuri couldn't even control his feet as they made way to the Russian. Yuuri threaded one of his hands immediately into the silver strands once he stood before him. The other hand was busy trying to desperately hide the weapon from Viktor's sight. 

“Yuuri,”

The Japanese man's glistening eyes snapped back to Viktor's at the call of his name. 

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He whispered as he closed his own and leaned forward. Yuuri took this chance to lean down and capture Viktor's lips. As he occupied Viktor's concentration, he placed the weapon onto the carpeted floor and used his foot to push it a bit out of reach—almost under the bed. Once he completed his task, he separated his mouth from Viktor's and caught his gaze once more. 

Viktor placed a calloused palm on Yuuri's stomach and settled him a bit farther from him, and leaned forward once more to place his teeth against Yuuri's exposed hip line. Yuuri gasped at the sensation and shifted his hands to rest on Viktor's broad shoulders. His fingernails dug into the pale skin as Viktor swiftly tugged at Yuuri's boxer briefs and slacks. They fell silently to the floor and the frigid air hit Yuuri's thighs. Yuuri let out a quivering breath at the feeling and a cold chill rippled through him. 

A hoarse groan escaped from him and echoed off the walls when Viktor surprised him by wrapping his lips around his cock. His hands immediately flew to the older man's hair and yanked hard. Viktor moaned around his member and that sent another violent chill down Yuuri's spine. Viktor was obviously skilled at this act since it seemed like second nature to him. Yuuri lewdly stared down to observe his cock disappear down the man's exposed throat. Viktor seemed to have no semblance of a gag reflex and that turned Yuuri on more. 

He couldn't stop the bucking of his hips as the warmth surrounded him. It was almost paralyzing, and Viktor didn't seem to mind he was basically fucking his mouth. Yuuri craned his neck to the right to see the Russian's right hand working relentlessly over his own cock. Yuuri was actually impressed by the size of Viktor, he was slightly above average and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to be dominated by this man now.

Yuuri could feel his orgasm building, so he pulled at the strands in his hands and yanked Viktor off of him. He grabbed Viktor's cheeks and lifted his lips up into another burning kiss. As their mouths molded against one another Viktor turned Yuuri by his shoulders so that the smaller man was now beneath him. Yuuri was placed conveniently on his stomach, and Viktor aggressively pushed Yuuri even further into the mattress with a firm hand in the middle of his shoulder blades. Yuuri was arched just perfectly to have his ass pressed against Viktor's groin. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Viktor growled in Russian this time. Viktor's hands traced up Yuuri's dress shirt and parked themselves on Yuuri's ass. He moaned at the feeling and forced his face further into the plush of the mattress. He hadn't got much time to collect his thoughts before a cracking noise filled the air. His backside stung and minor pain raced up his spine as Viktor's hand cracked against his skin. He rubbed out the strike with calloused hands and leaned over Yuuri's back to place his lips to the shell of Yuuri's ear.

“I'm going to ask again. Do you want me to fuck you?” Viktor sternly repeated himself and whipped his hand out to slam back onto the flesh of Yuuri's ass. The Japanese man yelped loudly, but just heaved out the ragged breath he was holding. 

“Fuck, yes.” He muttered in Japanese. He quickly composed himself and turned his face, so his mouth wasn't obstructed by the mattress. 

“Please, Viktor.” He stated this time in Russian. Viktor didn't need to ask again as he reached over to the nightstand not far off. He snatched a few items off of it, and Yuuri could hear the pop of a bottle as Viktor settled onto his knees. 

The prodding of slick fingers at his entrance caused Yuuri to gasp, but a rippling moan crawled out of his throat as Viktor began prepping him. Deft fingers poked and brushed against him for a few minutes. Probably not enough time before he detected the familiar sound of a condom being ripped open. Another smack to Yuuri's ass jostled him back into reality. He rotated his head slightly to catch the sight of Viktor behind him. He didn't even get a chance to thoroughly commit the sight to memory before his eyes screwed shut. The sudden pain of being forcibly entered consumed him, but soon was soothed out by Viktor running his hands down to Yuuri's erection. Viktor didn't waste time rutting his hips into Yuuri at a brutal pace. 

The lewd sound of skin against skin was all he could hear besides the crooning of Viktor. The vicious man behind him yelled out obscenities in Russian as he drilled into him. Yuuri wasn't complaining, the grueling pace was overwhelming almost too much, but he just let himself succumb to the Russian. Viktor's hands left Yuuri's cock to grasp Yuuri's bruised hips. His bruising grip was only released to lay a hit against his ass every other thrust. 

“Fuck, Yuuri.” Viktor chanted. Viktor slowed his pace down for a second and was recovering his lost breath. He doled out a rather hard slap to Yuuri's ass and growled savagely. “You like being fucked like this?” 

Yuuri couldn't even form words for a few seconds, and Viktor, unfortunately, halted his movements completely. 

Yuuri whined at the contact and thrust his hips back. Viktor sucked his teeth at the motion and let his hands wind up to the back of Yuuri's neck. His left hand desperately clutched the back of Yuuri's dress shirt and wound it around his wrist. Viktor used his frayed shirt as an anchor to hoist him onto his knees. In this new position Viktor's cock brushed against his prostate and caused Yuuri to actually scream out. 

“ _Fuck._ Yes! Harder, Viktor.” He seethed out and dug his nails into the thighs of the man behind him. 

Viktor didn't ease into the pace. He full force went into a desperate frenzy and that sent Yuuri completely over the edge within seconds. He spilled out untouched onto Viktor's ebony sheets and howled out. Viktor yanked Yuuri's shirt towards him so hard that the buttons split at the seams and the shirt fell listlessly to Yuuri's waist. Yuuri twisted his head to the side to observe Viktor. His eyes were shut and his jaw was slack as a dull groan spilled out of his mouth.

His pace slowed to a few more delicately thrusts. 

His hooded eyes opened, but immediately widened. 

Yuuri barely got a second to bask in pleasure before Viktor's rock solid fist connected with his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! And thank you for all the kudos, it is really appreciated. Feel free to drop a comment or more kudos. <3 See you next chapter.
> 
> You can reach me at:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aphoticwriter


	4. Act IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer due to some of the action scenes within. Glad to see people enjoying the last chapter! Here is the 'final' installment to this small ficlet.

The crunch of bones was absolutely too loud for Yuuri's ears as his head jolted back at the violent contact. His brain rattled within his skull and he could see stars racing across his vision. 

Viktor had already scrambled away and was yelling frantically in Russian. Yuuri was dizzy and could feel small drips of liquid racing out of his crooked nose. His blurry eyes glanced down to see his blistered hands covered with crimson blood. He glanced back over at Viktor who had pulled his boxers on and was about to dart towards the dresser to his left.

Yuuri mustered up all his strength and kicked Viktor square in the chest sending him flying against the wall behind him. Viktor yelped as his naked back caught the corner of the flimsy door. The door jamb crackled under the excessive weight of the massive man and some of the paint chipped off onto his back. Yuuri slid down to the end of the used bed and swiped his hand under the mattress to grasp the pistol he had placed there earlier. He cocked the gun and jerked it around to aim at Viktor. 

Viktor was about to pounce on him again, but stopped dead in his tracks. His breathing was erratic and his dull pupils were blown out mostly likely from the rush of adrenaline raging through his system. His hair was all over the place covering the left side of his face—hidng most of his expression from Yuuri's sight. Viktor extended his hands up in defense and gritted his teeth. 

“You aren't going to shoot me. Cops would be here instantly.” Viktor growled out in English. Yuuri huffed as he kept the gun on Viktor while standing. He leaned down to grasp his own boxers and pants. He took his time pulling them on and clasping the buttons shut. He would have to locate his shirt later even though it was most likely torn to ragged bits. 

Viktor grew impatient at the motion and stepped forward, but Yuuri only let his finger drift from the side of the gun to the trigger. This halted all of Viktor's movements. Viktor's roguish eyes trailed down the tattoos on Yuuri's arm and his grin broke out once more. 

“Didn't know the Yakuza wanted me dead that bad.” He murmured bitterly. Yuuri just laughed as he swiped his forearm across his nose. He hissed at the feeling and could feel the cartilage move with his arm. His bleeding nose was most definitely broken. Yuuri was appalled it only took one clean hit to make a clean break.

“I don't know why the Oyabun wants you dead. I'm intrigued, what did you do?” Yuuri retorted with a carefree tone etched in his gruff voice. 

Viktor tilted his head to the side and let his hands fall to his side. His shoulders sagged as he chuckled to himself. Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at him and shifted the gun up once more aiming between Viktor's cerulean eyes. He would have to make sure it was a clean shot, and he couldn't risk getting into a fight with this man.

“I'm assuming he didn't want me to make it to the fight and _other_ things.”

“What fight?”

“My fight.” 

“I'm still not understanding, Rooskii.” Yuuri seethed.

“So, you don't follow professional fighting? I'm a MMA fighter. I have a match in Las Vegas a week from today.” Viktor said bluntly with a wave of his hand. Yuuri's eyes widened at the comment, and he took a step back to establish more distance between the Russian and him. “I am fighting for the middleweight title against the Japanese champion. I was threatened to throw the fight for some money, but I told them to go fuck themselves.” 

Yuuri glanced away to process the information, but Viktor seized that as his opening to charge towards Yuuri. All the air was shoved out of Yuuri's lungs as he was taken down by the 80-kilo man. The gun was dangerously knocked from his grasp and skittered away. Yuuri was a master of arms, and panic flooded through him as he was pinned to the ground.

One of Viktor's arms snaked around the back of his head while the other was pressed to his exposed throat. His brawny forearm was slowly crushing his windpipe. Yuuri squirmed under him and he could hear his shallow breaths come out in wheezes. Viktor sneered down at him and exerted more pressure. Yuuri was at the man's mercy as he tried to claw at the pale appendages keeping him down.

“Didn't want me to see your tattoos, did you? Piece of shit, Yakuza--luring me in with charm. I should kill you.” He growled with his teeth bared towards the Japanese man. Fortunately, Viktor came just close enough for Yuuri to sink his teeth into the right side of Viktor's face. The Russian howled out in excruciating pain. Yuuri could taste iron in his mouth and used the overflow to his advantage to spit on Viktor. 

The Russian released his choke hold on Yuuri and rolled over on his back to swipe at the visible wound on his bruised face. His eyes shifted to the gun on the floor and leaped towards it just as Yuuri did the same. Both men wrestled for the gun with passion and Yuuri going as far to savagely kick Viktor in the groin to try and release his hold. Viktor grunted out in pain but used his lengthy arms to try and thrust the gun higher, so Yuuri's grip would loosen. One of Viktor's hands unraveled from the tangle of limbs and reared back to strike Yuuri in the ribs. Yuuri yelled out in horrid pain and wanted to clutch his side terribly but he didn't want to release the gun. It would be over if he did that. 

“It doesn't have to be like this.” Viktor huffed out as he yanked both the men up into a sitting position. Viktor used his legs to turn Yuuri's back into his chest. Viktor's legs crossed over Yuuri's own and restrained them with immense force. 

“Fuck yo--” Yuuri's strangled voice was drowned out by the piercing pop of a round going off. He heard the bullet lodge itself in the drywall above. Yuuri flinched as some of the debris came down on him, but mustered up his last bit of strength to shoulder bash Viktor to the floor behind him. The gun slipped easily from the Russian's ruthless hands when Yuuri straddled his hips in a hasty movement. 

Yuuri's sore knees pinned Viktor's arms down by the biceps and the barrel of his gun bashed harshly into his mouth. It clacked against Viktor's bleached out teeth and the Japanese man winced slightly at the contact. Viktor's eyes widened as he stared down the weapon to gaze into Yuuri's eyes. This was the first time Yuuri saw complete fear at the edge of his eyes. He struggled feebly for a bit, but Yuuri just pressed his kneecaps deeper into the muscle below him. 

He let his finger slide from the side of the gun and crawl towards the trigger. He soaked in the man before him. Grey hair splayed against the dark carpet and chest heaving rapidly. Yuuri couldn't help but be enthralled by the sheer beauty of him once more. He was breath taking and tragic all under him. He was going to be the last one to see this sight. It was such a shame he had to do this. 

“Such a shame.” He whispered as he forced the gun deeper in the cavern of Viktor's mouth. 

Blinding pain seared through his left thigh suddenly. He gasped in a high-pitched tone and rolled backwards off of the man. Viktor exhaled loudly once the overwhelming weight was lifted off of him. Yuuri frantically clutched his thigh and withdrew his hand to inspect the wound. Blood was pouring from his useless leg at a startling rate. The peeled back skin was sickening to observe, and Yuuri could see the details of his muscles exposed. He cupped the wound and applied as much pressure as he could to the area. 

Viktor placed his slender foot on Yuuri's gun wielding wrist and pinned him back to the carpet. Yuuri's own knife twirled between the nimble fingers as the Russian heaved in exhaustion. Yuuri didn't even witness the man procure the weapon. How could he have been so foolish?

“Is this how it's going to be?” He chuckled darkly. “I'm going to give you an out.” 

“That's not part of the deal.” Yuuri said with a strained tone. He let his fumbling hand leave the wound just for a second to try and fight off Viktor's foot. As he moved he could feel the slick carpet beneath his thigh and his unsteady hand retreated back to the wound to maintain pressure. He didn't want to bleed out like this; he had to complete his task. This was what he was made for. This was the _only_ thing he had. 

“I wasn't expecting to have a hit on me. You've been bested. Take the loss like a man, Yuuri.” 

“I didn't expect you to be a trainer killer.” 

“I didn't expect the business man I picked up from the bar to try and kill me. Life is full of surprises. You are just an enforcer, aren't you?” 

“I kill for money if that's what you're getting at. I refuse to do anything else for the Oyabun.” 

Viktor moistened his plump lips sensually like he had in the past and the sight surged through Yuuri. It was causing so many mixed signals throughout his body. 

“Oh, Yuuri. How interesting. If I had known how rough you actually are I would have gave it all I had.” Viktor joked. Yuuri rolled his eyes at the explicit comment and lowered his head to rest on the carpet below. He was starting to become very light-headed. He was losing too much blood at this rate. He had to gain the upper hand back, but something about the tilt of Viktor's voice drew him back in.

“I'm not daft, Yuuri. You took me for an appealing face to fuck and kill for your job. It seems you've never had a challenge in your field of work.” He growled. Yuuri tried to shift the gun back up to aim at the Russian, but Viktor dug his heel into the bone below him. Hard enough that Yuuri could hear his bones audibly crumbling.

“That's not true.”

“How so?”

“You aren't just—a pretty face. You know I actually considered not killing you just for a second?” Yuuri candidly admitted. 

Viktor belly laughed gleefully like he had at the bar again. He tossed his head back and swayed his head in disbelief. “You can't talk your way out of this. This is your only option unless you want to die.” Viktor said while naturally placing a finger up to his lips. “You don't report back to the Oyabun. You join us instead.” 

Yuuri raised his eyebrow and gritted his teeth angrily. “I could never betray them like that. I would be killed! And what do you mean by 'us'?”

“Oh, darling. You didn't think this was all about some silly UFC fight did you?” Viktor cackled with a dangerous wave of the knife. “This was a power move. A foolishly bold one. They genuinely just wanted my organization to fall.” 

“What? You got a lowly mafia of your own here?” 

“Yuuri, I am the mafia. You just fucked with the wrong Pakhan.” He replied hotly and finally withdrew his foot from Yuuri's wrist. The Japanese man sat up abruptly to try and pop a round off. However, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

A pale hand was outstretched to him. Viktor was leaning forward with a slight smile all fear forgone and just smugness painted on his eager face. 

“What do you say, Yuuri? If you refuse, I'll have to kill you, and I'd rather not waste a bullet on such a beautiful man.” He said with a wink. Yuuri glanced at the gun in his right hand, and then back at the man before him. 

He had no choice. 

He had to succumb to Viktor. He couldn't go back to the Oyabun in a coffin, let alone without the kill he was promised. Viktor took pity on him. Something that no one had done before--not his family or lovers. The kindness hidden behind Viktor's rough demeanor captivated Yuuri and had him almost begging at his feet. _Almost_. 

The gun fell with a clatter loud enough to make Viktor flinch. Yuuri clasped hands with the Russian and was yanked up to hobble onto one leg. 

“Oh, Yuuri. You won't regret this.” He whispered gently, his tone dripping with pleasure. Viktor's nose grazed his neck once more as he nuzzled the dewy skin there. “Welcome to Russia, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Rooskii is a slur for a Russian. 
> 
> So, I'm actually kind of sad to let this one go. I really the story I spun with these two. I am planning on writing an epilogue and that should be out in a few days. I didn't really _like_ this closure per se. Look forward to see y'all in the epilogue. Thank you all for the kudos and the comments, they brighten my day.  <3
> 
> My tumblr is:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aphoticwriter


	5. Act V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did a lot of thinking and planning. So I plan to make this a full length story instead of a short story. I hope this makes y'all happy! Sorry, for the delay. I got very busy with work and some other things, but I plan to try and still get a chapter out a week!

He was fucking terrifying.

Yuuri didn't know how he didn't catch it before.

He was absolutely terrifying.

The way the Russian carried himself when he wasn't in some back-alley club. He was all business and never had a hair out place. It was like he genuinely knew he was better than everyone else and reveled in it. Yuuri wasn't even sure he could pull off an elegant suit like Viktor. Everything was tailored to every curve of muscle and his tie so tight around his brawny throat Yuuri thought it would smother him.

Yuuri was currently lounging with his useless leg propped up on a plump pillow in their hotel room.

Their room.

Yuuri was still a bit dazed after the past few days. His brain was scattered and honestly, a bit overwhelmed. His phone was long gone and probably blowing up with all kinds of messages from back home. He could ignore it for now; he was protected for now. Japan was a 9,000 kilometer difference right now, but even he knew deep down no matter the distance--it would soon catch up with him. 

Viktor had just shown up on the television screen. He still looked as dashing as he had when he was carted off to the interview this afternoon in that damn suit. His dazzling smile wooed the female reporter as he kissed the knuckles of her right hand before sitting. She seemed a bit flustered at the gentle action, but quickly gained composure as she mimicked his posture. 

_“Welcome, Viktor Nikiforov. Contender for the big fight tonight from Russia! How are you feeling?”_

Viktor had this sense of profound calm about him as he crossed his nimble legs and placed his palms on one knee. He flashed another blinding smile before speaking. 

_“I am confident I will be able to take on my competitor. I have worked months for this, and he isn't going to see what is coming.”_

_“Well, we are excited to see what you have in store! You are from Russia, correct? St. Petersburg is your hometown?”_

_“Yes, I've lived there all my life! It's a breath of fresh air when I get to visit a new place. Las Vegas has been treating me very nicely as it usually does.”_

_“It is hot here, something to get used to!”_ The reporter giggled hysterically with a hand over her mouth. _“Your fighting technique has been criticized as brutish—almost like a street thug. How do you respond to that?”_

Viktor scoffed and leaned forwards on his elbows. Yuuri could see the grin spread across his face and rolled his eyes wondering what witty comeback was going to come flowing out of his mouth. Yuuri sort of tuned out of the interview for a bit. His leg was starting to act up again, so he reached over to the night stand to grasp the orange bottle perched on the edge. He shook a few painkillers out and popped them into his mouth. He dry swallowed them instead of disturbing his relaxation to get a chaser. Yuuri rested back into the plush pillows and turned the volume up on the television. 

_“Enough about UFC, tell us a bit about yourself! Do you have any comment on your trial in New York City? Is it true you broke a man's jaw against a bar top?”_ Yuuri actually gasped at the harsh words coming out of the reporter's mouth. He couldn't believe it suddenly went about Viktor's career into such personal gossip. Viktor didn't seem to mind, however, as he lazily threw a hand in the air with a laugh. He seemed so at ease. Viktor was natural speaker. He could talk his way out of anything. Yuuri knew that first hand since he was talked into basically surrendering to this whirlwind of a man. 

_“No comment, but I can tell you it will be settled out of court.”_

_“How about your love life? Any special ladies in your life?”_ Yuuri barked out a hearty laugh at that one. Viktor just waggled his expressive eyebrows and crossed his legs once more.

 _“Come on, Melanie. When did this become a TMZ interview? I'm here for a fight, and I'm here to win. Not gossip about my life.”_ Viktor went to stand, and he took the time to pull the cuffs down on his dress shirt. He leaned forward and let his hand brush against the reporter's slim arm in a sensual way. _“The rest of the world will just have to wait and see who ties this down.”_

The girl stammered as blush spread all across her features and the interview was concluded with soft goodbyes. Yuuri let out a breath he had been holding and eagerly snatched the brand-new laptop Viktor had given him. He had received it right when they landed in Vegas last night at some crowded Apple store. Viktor said all his body guards had all the best equipment to ensure his safety. It wasn't like he was going to be a great bodyguard since Viktor was a killing machine already. He first hand had experienced that. His slashed up leg from a certain Russian Pakhan really showcased the Russian's tactfulness. 

He nevertheless couldn't believe he was here. It was all the a surreal dream, one that takes you for a ride and doesn't let go until you're gasping for air upon awakening. Viktor had taken him in so easily. Yuuri didn't get it. He tried to kill him. How could Viktor be so trusting? Yuuri could very well turn on a dime and complete his mission. He had even thought about it a few times when he lied so close to Russian. He could reach out and wrap his hands around that sleek neck and just twist it. However, something within him held him back. Something hot and burning deep in his chest. He couldn't precisely place the emotion. 

Yuuri let the laptop load for a few minutes before diving into google. He hadn't really had a chance to be alone with himself since that memorable night. He wanted to know more about Viktor.

He had to know more. He wasn't getting much out of him during conversation.

He did the easiest thing which was search the man's name into Google. Of course a few articles of his fight tonight popped up, but Yuuri was not the least bit interested in that at the moment. He did find an article pertaining to the case the woman had mentioned. It was from October which was only two months ago. He opened it up and clicked away as a few advertisements popped up so he could get a clearer look. 

**UFC Fighter Viktor Nikiforov Arrested in New York City Bar for Assault**

_The Five Time Middleweight Champion was reportedly seen being escorted off the premises of a bar in Brooklyn on Saturday night. Police did report a fight had broken out between Nikiforov and a bystander in an alley. The scuffle apparently broke out after a drink was spilled on Nikiforov and the bystander made a slur at him. Patrons at the bar happened to overhear and said the bystander had come at him with homophobic remarks since Nikiforov was seen being friendly with a man._

_The case was taken to court the following week but was delayed due to Nikiforov's residence in Russia. After his fight on the tenth of December, he shall appear in court to defend himself against the bystander._

Yuuri inspected a few photos at the bottom of the article to see Viktor being carted off in handcuffs and a large crowd huddled around the bar. Yuuri nibbled his lip and wondered if it would be okay if he asked Viktor about this. He explored the internet some more and did find an interesting top ten article from TMZ about the most attractive athletes who might be homosexual. The article was fairly new, only posted this morning most likely to capitalize Viktor's name being researched so much before the fight. 

Of course as Yuuri scrolled through the article Viktor was number one. There were two official photos of him side by side. One was of him in the middle of a fight with blood dripping out of his left eyebrow. He was in the middle of dodging an attack from another fighter in the octagon. His gloves were specialty designed with silver streaking across the tops of them. He naturally had a pair of athletic shorts that adorned the Russian colors. The shorts were pretty short in Yuuri's opinion and also way too tight. He didn't comprehend how Viktor wore such restricting clothing. He knew of Viktor's preference to skimpier underwear since he paraded around the hotel this morning only in a thin black thong. Yuuri had tried ignoring it, but failed miserably when Viktor naturally threw a casual remark over his shoulder that he should charge by the minute when he was being ogled. This photo had showcased all the remarkable strength within in Viktor's toned muscles and Yuuri moistened his lips absentmindedly at the sight. 

There was another photo however that Yuuri found more alluring. It was a photo shoot he could tell. It was for Armani actually since the watermark was proudly placed at the bottom of the photo, a brand that Yuuri was familiar with. The pale grey suit that Viktor adorned matched the distinct hue of his hair perfectly and the designers naturally paired the baby blue tie with his eyes. He was leaning against a bar with a polished glass of vodka teasing the tip of his bottom lip. He was gazing directly into the camera, and Yuuri was still enamored by those steely eyes. 

**1\. Viktor Nikiforov**

_Viktor Nikiforov shocked the UFC world when he seemingly came out of nowhere to secure the middleweight championship five years ago. He has consecutively defended his title every year, and we don't expect him to give it up this year. Nikiforov also dabbles in modeling in his off time, and everyone on the staff here at TMZ agrees he should continue. As long as his pretty face doesn't get beat up too bad. He is number one on our list not just for his sheer beauty, but for the many accusations and reports coming from people about his sexuality._

_The evidence at hand is; he is currently involved in a case where he was called homosexual slurs at a bar and fought the man who made the remarks. In addition, he has been photographed with many men being more friendly than usual. Just this previous weekend he was photographed with an unknown man at a popular gay bar in St. Petersburg. The two seemed to leave the bar together after the photo was taken says the photographer. All in all, stay sexy, Mr. Nikiforov!_

Yuuri gasped immediately and went to work trying to discover that photo. He was clicking all over the place so vigorously that he didn't even hear the hotel room door open. He finally found something on a Russian website that looked promising, but the laptop was snatched out his hands and placed to his side just as Yuuri had begun reading. Yuuri yelped as mighty hands encased him against the headboard. Viktor's satisfied grin was the sole thing in his vision as Yuuri sunk back into the pillows trying to distance himself from the Russian. 

“How was your day, darling?” 

Yuuri still wasn't very comfortable making such conversation with him so he merely shrugged in response. 

“You know, Yuuri. You're going to have to get used to me at some point.” He droned on as he stroked his nose up the length of Yuuri's cheek. Yuuri's breath hitched as he did so, but soon he pulled away to plop down next to him. He was still wearing that impeccable suit, but had unbuttoned the coat to let it fall to his sides. He was working at the tie around his throat loosening it so that it fell messily on his chest. 

“Shouldn't you be training or something?” Yuuri mumbled as Viktor rested the laptop on his belly and instantly started playing around on it. Yuuri captured the sight out of the corner of his eye of Viktor reading the article with squinted eyes. 

“Would you be a doll and hand me my reading glasses?” He murmured tenderly with an outstretched hand. Yuuri complied and reached over on the nightstand to snatch the spectacles. He placed them in Viktor's palm softly before he tucked them onto his face. Even his glasses were designer quality and Yuuri didn't even want to know how much Viktor probably paid for them. Yuuri first noticed that he had to wear glasses when at the airport. Viktor had trouble reading their tickets without some sort of help, and had pawned off the tickets to Yuuri to read properly. Yuuri had offered his extra pair prescription glasses, but Viktor said they were too strong for him. He let the glasses rest pretty low on the bridge of his nose as his eyes examined the article. 

“What have you been up to while I was gone?” He chuckled gleefully as he clicked another article in a separate tab.

“I was curious about what the woman said during the interview. You know, about your arrest.” 

“Yuuri, I can't tell you how many times I've been arrested.” He laughed once more and looked up at him with a goofy smile. Yuuri rolled his eyes and swayed his head in disbelief. 

“Did you really break that guys jaw? What did he say to you?” 

Viktor's bruised finger was placed on his lips in thought as his gaze looked somewhere off in the distance. 

“He said something along the lines of _'take your faggot ass out of my bar'_. He tossed his drink on my extremely expensive suit so naturally I smashed his face into the bar top. I didn't necessarily mean to break his jaw. Man, Christophe was shrieking when he heard the snap of that guy's jaw.“ Viktor darkly snickered. Yuuri made note to inquire who Christophe was later. 

“Like how you didn't mean to slash my leg open?” 

“Hey, you were trying to kill me. What else was I supposed to do?” 

Yuuri did laugh at that one. He was still a bit taken back about how they fell into a this domestic rhythm. He still wasn't one-hundred percent sure why Viktor was keeping him around. He wanted to ask him so desperately, but he didn't want to disturb the Pakhan.

“So, they took a photo of us in St. Petersburg? That's not good, I'll have it dealt with.” Viktor mumbled as he carefully placed the computer on the ground and whipped off his reading glasses. He wedged them in the front pocket of his suit before letting his hands drift over to Yuuri. His deft fingers danced around his hips and suddenly Yuuri was upended. Yuuri yelped as he dragged onto Viktor's lap. He hissed at the pain in his legs, but pushed it away as he put all his weight into his knees. 

Below him Viktor seemed content as he ran his hands up and down Yuuri's exposed sides. His hands trailed the elaborate tattoos that had oh, so graciously gave him away a few nights ago. Viktor made a noise in the back of his throat that resembled a growl before resting his hands on the top of Yuuri's clothed thighs. 

“What do your tattoos mean?” Viktor huskily whispered as his right hand went up to drag up and down the ink. Viktor was currently caressing the Oni on Yuuri's left pectoral as his other hand rested on Yuuri's hip. 

“Why are you so interested in my tattoos?”

“They're a part of you. I want to know everything about you.” 

Of course Viktor would want to know everything about him, but if it was the other flip of the coin Viktor would clam up. He had tried prying some information out of him on the flight here, but Viktor had only just brushed it off. Yuuri sighed as he let his one hand drift up to point at the demon. “This is an Oni. They are pretty much ugly creatures who terrorized villages back in the old days.” 

“You say this like you believe in it.” 

“I believe _something_ was terrorizing villages and people in the old days. Why can't it be Oni?” Yuuri smirked as he put his hand on top of Viktor's. He used his own hand to gently guide Viktor's to his bicep and tapped his own finger against the fox. 

“What do foxes mean to you?” Yuuri questioned first. 

“Foxes? I mean, they were consistently portrayed as tricksters to us as children. My Mama used to tell us to stay away from the fox lest it steals our wealth.” 

Yuuri chuckled as he lowered his hand and splayed it against the snowy white of his dress shirt. “Kitsune are also seen that way in Japan. There's a lot of stories about them, though. You see how my fox has a lot of tails. The more tails the fox has, the wiser and more powerful he is.” 

“How many tails does he have?” 

“Four. One for each member of my family.” Yuuri retorted with a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

“You miss them. I am terribly sorry to bring that up.” Viktor instantly went to cradle Yuuri's face in his hand. Yuuri jerked back at the sensation and adjusted his position on Viktor's lap to elevate some of the burning in his thighs. Viktor groaned wantonly and dug his manicured fingernails into Yuuri's side. Yuuri slyly smiled as he slipped his hands down to Viktor's abdomen and fingered the muscles under the cloth.

“Don't tease me like that.” He growled in response to Yuuri's action. The Japanese man only giggled easily as Viktor moistened his lips. He directed his gaze to the final being on Yuuri's arm which was the dragon roaring ferociously on top of his forearm. 

“The dragon was the most recent addition. I had got it done a few weeks before I went to Russia. My Mom used to tell this story when I was kid.” He chuckled a bit too loudly at the pleasant memory as Viktor continued to listen.“This dragon lived under the sea. He enjoyed humans a lot, he would even allow them into his grand palace when we would enter the ocean. His daughter fell in love with a human after he dived into the ocean trying to retrieve a fish hook that was his brothers, but the human longed for home after a few years. He couldn't go home, however, because he didn't have the fish hook.”*

Viktor sat up a bit and childlike excitement danced across his sparkling eyes. Yuuri's hands fell to his sides, but soon he wound them around the Russian's muscled shoulders to bring their body's closer. He could feel the heat of Viktor's breath on his exposed chest. It made a shiver run down Yuuri's spine as he gazed into Viktor's eyes. 

“The mighty dragon summoned all the help in the sea. Fish, turtles, sharks and even the coral to find the fish hook.” As Yuuri was wrapping up his story Viktor's hands had now traveled to his backside and were squeezing the flesh there. Yuuri gasped slightly and let his hands cup the nape of Viktor's neck.

“Once the hook was found, only then could the dragon's daughter and son in-law return to land happily.”

“So why did you get the tattoo then?” 

Yuuri picked at the lint on Viktor's shirt as he sighed in thought. “It reminds me that one day. I'll be home—and happy.” 

Viktor's face softened a bit as he let his hands drop from the Japanese's man body. He rolled Yuuri's body so that he was back to lying down on the plush bed. Viktor took the time to brush Yuuri's thick hair out of his eyes and leaned forward to ghost his lips across his forehead. Yuuri felt his chest swell at the simple action. Viktor went back lying on his side of the bed not making a move to touch Yuuri again. He could hear the ragged breathing coming from the Russian before he jumped out of the bed on rickety legs. Viktor glanced back at Yuuri with downtrodden eyes. 

“Sleep for now. The fight will be here soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! I am amazed how much kudos this story has gotten! I can't thank y'all enough. (: <3
> 
> 1\. The story that Yuuri tells is one story involving Watatsumi, a dragon in Japanese folklore.
> 
> You can always find me on my tumblr! 
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com/


	6. Act VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer update! Hope y'all enjoy! Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments. I love receiving them. They brighten my day. (:

Friday came quicker than he anticipated. He listened to the groaning of the shower pipes as Viktor prepared himself for his fight tonight. He weighed in yesterday and of course was on point with his mass. The Japanese man named Minami tried getting in his face during the conference, but Viktor kept his cool with answering many key questions about what they should expect from him.

Yuuri was playing around on his new iPhone and decided to look up some news about his hometown. Nothing out of the ordinary yet had happened. He didn't know what he would do if he saw anything on his family. He glanced out of the large floor to ceiling windows to look out at the lively city.

Luxury cars were backed up all the way to the arena, and the city lights danced across the ebony sky. It reminded Yuuri of Tokyo, but this was a whole new atmosphere. The bustling streets stunk with sex and alcohol, and he would rather stay holed up in his room than retreat to the casino floor. Today was the first day his leg started feeling better so he took his time walking around the room to get some strength back into it.

Freezing hands gripped his sides and he yelped at the contact. He twisted in the arms he was captured in and was face to face with the man he had been spending his time within Vegas. Viktor had a smirk on his face before he pushed Yuuri against the glass on the window. The glass was frosty to the touch and stung at his back.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri immediately questioned as he squirmed against Viktor's hold. He could easily break out of it but Viktor was currently ghosting his lips down Yuuri's neck.

“Can't I give some attention to you?” He whispered tenderly as he nipped the visible skin at the base of Yuuri's chin. The Japanese man sucked in a breath as fought the urge to let Viktor have his way with him. They hadn't been intimate since that night in St. Petersburg.

“Why?”

“Why?” Viktor chimed back. He let his hands drop from Yuuri's wrists as he stroked them down his clothed sides to place them on his ample hips. Viktor was in nothing but a towel and faint water drops dripped beside Yuuri's bare feet. Viktor's body was littered with bruises here and there, and he had two of his fingers wrapped in some medical tape. He had come back from training last night grumbling about how his sparring partner sprained two of his fingers.

Yuuri used this moment to turn Viktor to the window and established some space between them. Viktor's eyes glinted with surprise as he leaned back against the window.

“So, you don't know why I would give attention to you?” He recalled the last question. “Do you even know your worth?”

Yuuri laughed with a wave of his hand as he sat down on the plush king mattress. Everything about Viktor was extravagant, but Yuuri wasn't about to complain about the silk sheets he got to roll around in at night.

“You are worth more than you think. I wouldn't take you in if I didn't think you were worth the risk.” Viktor pushed off from the window and stood before the Japanese man. He gripped the man's hands in his right hand and ran his thumb over Yuuri's chapped bottom lip. “You tried killing me, but you stopped a few times. I see loyalty in you, and I've lacked that in my life. It also helps that you are incredibly good-looking.”

Yuuri snorted at the remark but gasped as Viktor wrapped his hand around Yuuri's throat. Barely exerting pressure, but sending a message.

“Don't make me regret this.” He whispered in a low tone. He retreated to the closet as his hands skimmed down the length of Yuuri's throat and yanked two launder bags out. He strutted back to the bed to place them gently on the surface. He unzipped one and left it off to the side, but the other he motioned towards with his hand.

Yuuri turned slightly and let his hand dance across the material. He unzipped it and pushed away parts of the bag to reveal the suit inside. He didn't know how Viktor got his measurements, but he wasn't about to ask such a question.

The suit underneath the material was silky to the touch as he delicately pulled it out. It was a three-piece suit that was navy in color. He rose from his spot on the bed to begin dressing for the match tonight.

Viktor made it especially clear that Yuuri was to look his best tonight since cameras would be all over the arena. Yuuri was more worried about being seen by certain members in Japan.

Viktor promised his safety if he were to be spotted. He wanted to trust Viktor, but there was still that gnawing fear at the bottom of his stomach.

Viktor came out from around the corner in his fighting outfit which typically consisted of no shirt and those tight spandex shorts. He had other clothes laid out in the other black bag as well that he would put on over his outfit.

Yuuri couldn’t help but stare at Viktor’s backside as he bent over to reach for the zipper on the bag. Viktor noticed instantly and turned to sit on the bed with his legs crossed like a posh man.

“What’s the matter, Yuuri? Can’t resist the shorts?” Viktor chimed in a higher pitched tone to feign femininity. Yuuri rolled his eyes at the Russian’s actions. Viktor loved to be as flirty as possible with him and enjoyed getting a rise out of Yuuri.

“Get dressed, old man.” He grinned slyly as he pulled on the navy trousers. He wouldn’t have to carry any weapons, so he didn’t waste time putting on any of his holsters. Viktor had two bodyguards, but coming from Yuuri’s background he wasn’t intimidated by them.

The first one shared the same name as Yuuri. He was a little wisp of a thing but had a mean streak to contend with. He was skilled in knives and militia hand to hand combat. He was often seen sparring with Viktor and the media knew him as Viktor’s protégé in the fighting world. He didn’t really take to Yuuri well and constantly would stink eye him when he came up to the room.

Otabek was the more menacing body-guard. He was stoic, and Yuuri recalled he was the man on the motorcycle that day that he trailed Viktor to the gym. Otabek reminded Yuuri a bit of himself when it came to his demeanor. Yuuri enjoyed when Otabek came to check on him because they shared a solemn nod, and then he was on his way.

Yuuri had already buttoned his dress shirt up. It was a faint blue that clashed against his tan skin well. He was tucking it into his slacks when Viktor came up to him and tugged on the collar. He popped it up and snatched the tie off the bed to wind it around Yuuri’s neck.

“This blue looks divine on you. I made a great choice, didn’t I?” Viktor murmured as he began looping the tie expertly. Yuuri could tell by his motions he was tying an intricate Windsor knot around his neck. Once Viktor was done he ran his hand down the tie making sure to drag his fingertips sensually across Yuuri’s taut abdomen.

Viktor’s face was so close to his that he had to take a step back to retrieve his vest and slip it over his shoulders. It matched the same color as the jacket and the pants. He tucked his tie into the vest and pulled down hard on the bottom of the vest. Viktor assisted him into his suit jacket and brushed the shoulders off with a satisfied humming sound.

“Wait! I have the perfect thing to make this complete.” Viktor exclaimed eagerly as he bounced over to his luggage and yanked out a small box. He rummaged around in it for a few moments before producing a silky piece of cloth.

He folded the dainty handkerchief in his hands before delicately placing it in the front pocket of Yuuri’s suit. He briskly turned on his heel and went over to his own bag to get dressed.

Yuuri caught sight of himself in the mirror by the vanity. He grabbed some of Viktor’s hair gel and squirted some into his hand. He pushed his hair back and slicked it almost perfectly. A few strands fell before his eyes, and he would just have to deal with it. Viktor also had some expensive chap-stick that he applied to his chapped lips and glanced at himself once again in the mirror. [1]

Fortunately, the few bruises he had on his face were practically gone. He merely had a yellowish tinge to his neck where Viktor had wrapped his burly around his neck last week. He was startled for a moment when Viktor came into view behind him.

He was already dressed, and Yuuri’s mouth went dry at the sight.

The suit was checkered in a plaid pattern. It was brown as it’s primary color but the distinctive stripes going up and down were a vibrant violet. The vest followed suit in the same pattern, and Viktor adorned a violet shirt underneath to match. His tie was the same chocolate-brown as the suits color and consisted of little purple dots scattered across the material.

Yuuri would never get tired of seeing this man dressed so well. He had been resisting his initial attraction all week but this suit was doing crazy things to his mind. He turned to face Viktor who had a sly smirk on his face. He moved past Yuuri to stand at the vanity himself and mess around with the products there. He styled his hair the same way he always did and sprayed his cologne on his neck.

The aroma of green leaves, roses and a hint of wood. He couldn’t put his finger on it but it was like Viktor had come strutting out of a musky forest. [2] Viktor let his hands reach up to delicately trace the sharp line of Yuuri’s cheekbone as his breath grew haggard.

“Yuuri, you look fantastic. I probably won’t be able to take my eyes off you tonight.” Viktor said in a suave tone. They hadn't been this close besides during the night when they would drift close to each other in their sleep.

Yuuri cleared the distance by placing his hand on the nape of Viktor’s neck and pulled the Russian closer.

Viktor growled as their mouthed mashed together roughly and his hands were bruising on Yuuri’s hips.

The two men yanked each other closer as the heat grew between them.

Yuuri didn’t have a care in the world at the moment as Viktor's stubble rubbed harshly against his skin. Something about Viktor made him throw any clear thought out the window. This is what made him abandon his family back in Japan. This man-made him drop his own mission just by his looks.

Viktor’s unique personality wasn’t that bad either. Yuuri found himself laughing more and more as days grew. Viktor may be terrifying, but behind closed doors, he was just a goof. The guy who would stick straws in his mouth and act like a walrus. The guy who would crack up at shitty comedy movies to the point of almost crying.

It was worth it, Yuuri thought.

They were separated by a gagging noise, and they pulled away to see Plisetsky and Otabek standing by the doorway. They were ready to go, but we’re waiting on the two men tangled with each other.

“Gross, old man. Let’s get going. Last weigh in is in an hour.” Plisetsky grumbled as he opened the door.

“Just you wait, Yura. When I catch you and Otabek all hot and heavy. I’ll make it worse for you.” Viktor chuckles as he pulled away.

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose up as he observed the two bodyguards. They blushed fiercely and made way to let Viktor walk out in front of them.

“Shut up, pig.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Yuuri shouted as he trailed behind masking as another bodyguard.

They promptly arrived at the arena after an annoying long car ride of Plisetsky just blasting some crazy metal music. He claimed it was to help hype Viktor up, but it seemed to only give the eldest Russian a headache. The arena was packed with so many different people as they all tried to make way into the building.

It was like time stopped when they exited the vehicle. Viktor slipped on a pair of sunglasses as he exited the luxury vehicle and adjusted his suit. He grinned at the photographers with pearly ivory teeth on full display. This was the moment Yuuri dreaded. He also pushed a pair of Ray Bans onto his eyes as he scooted towards the door. [3]

Once he climbed out of the vehicle the cameras continued to snap and he already knew he was going to be in deep water. There was going to be no way out of this.

He suddenly felt Viktor’s hand at the small of Yuuri’s back as he directed him to stand beside him. They posed for a few pictures, and Yuuri felt his anxiety bubble up. His breathing was a bit ragged but was halted as Viktor put his lips to Yuuri’s ear.

“Relax, darling. Just focus on getting to your seat. This is just a formality.” He murmured hotly into his ear. Viktor’s fringe blocked the kiss that was pressed to his ear after his words. They were off to the doors soon enough, and Viktor was carted off with Plisetsky to a different area.

Otabek motioned that they head down to the cage. They took their seats and lounged back waiting for the match to begin.

The weigh-in went smoothly and soon both contenders were in the center of the rink. Viktor was stripped down to his uniform, and it barely left anything to the imagination. He could see a few women and even men out in the crowd roving their eyes over his form. Plisetsky was talking him up at the corner along with an older gentleman with receding hair.

The announced droned on and on about sponsorships but finally motioned for the fighters to make it to the center.

“Tonight, we have defending champion from St. Petersburg, Russia! Viktor ‘The Merchant of Death’ Nikiforov!” The announced hollered and many people took to standing. Thunderous applause erupted, and Yuuri also jumped to his feet to clap alongside. Otabek as calm as ever clapped softly with a tiny smirk on his face. [4]

“Do you think Viktor is going to win?” Yuuri called over the noise to the man next to him.

Otabek laughed knowingly and fell back down to his seat. “I already bet some money on Viktor. There’s no way he’s leaving here without that belt.”

Yuuri nodded as he also sat back down and waited for the match to begin. Soon enough the horses were off to the races after a glove touch.

Viktor started off immediately with a kick to the Japanese’s man leg. The sound was loud reaching Yuuri’s ears even a few meters away. Minami took it easily but backed off. Viktor seized that as his chance to pounce. The Japanese man was soon pinned to the side of the cage farthest away from Yuuri by a grab. He could hear the groaning of the two men far off, but Plisetsky’s screams were even louder.

“Get him to the ground, you idiot!” The blonde screamed hysterically through the cage. The Japanese man broke out of the grapple after a few seconds and a few people groaned around him.

This started a brawl between the men. Yuuri knows how hard Viktor’s hits were and he winced every time one connected. He knew it had to hurt. The round went on like that for another two minutes until Viktor had another pin again but on Yuuri’s side.

He swore he caught the gaze of Viktor, but that could have just been a mistake. The Russian had pushed away once more, but a swift step back and a rather mighty punch landed the man on the ground.

Viktor jumped on him and began wailing on the man. Hit after hit smashed into the poor man’s face and Yuuri could see a few splatters of blood fly into the air. Minami got Viktor off him by a roll, but the whistle sounded ending the round.

He watched the exhausted man return to his seat and took note of the way Viktor sauntered to his corner with confidence. The other two seemed to hype him up some more as ice packs were pressed to his chest and he guzzled water.

The second round didn’t start out well. Viktor ended up on his back and was getting pummeled. Yuuri saw some crimson fluid fly from Viktor’s face and jumped up in his seat to get a better view of the match. Right as he did so Viktor turned the tables and was on top of the man.

Unfortunately, the Japanese man was on his stomach and had Viktor looming over him. The sight reminded Yuuri of that night in the hotel. Being completely at Viktor’s mercy. It sent a pang through his body, but he forced the crude thought from his brain as he cheered for Viktor.

The choke hold he had made Minami tap out and end the round.

Viktor ended up losing the next round due to being over exerted from putting his all into the round. He didn’t tap or get knocked out, but simply held out during a pin.

Viktor seemed gassed but he maintained a smile across his face as he pounced into the center. The Japanese man seemed to wildly throw kicks to push Viktor to the outside. This didn’t fool the Russian.

Once the man put too much momentum into his kick, Viktor slammed an uppercut right into his jaw. The whole crowd gasped as the man flew backward and landed with a slap against the mat. Viktor jumped on him to promptly initiate another choke hold but was pulled off after a few seconds by the referee.

Due to Minami not getting up Viktor won by a knockout. Viktor roared and struck his chest once before jumping into the air towards the ropes to hug his coaching staff.

Yuuri was already up on his feet moving towards the rope with Otabek on his heels. Once he reached the cage Viktor caught his gaze and held a hand out to jerk him onto the mat. They stood on opposing sides of the rope, but Viktor’s gloves hand was suddenly at the nape of his neck.

Yuuri didn’t have time to register what Viktor hand in mind before he was yanked into a crushing kiss.

He could taste the blood on his tongue as Viktor pulled him closer with an eager arm around his waist. Nothing else mattered at that moment but the searing motion of Viktor’s sensual mouth on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Viktor's cologne is based off of Clive Christian for Men. It's 300 dollars a bottle.  
> [2] The chapstick mentioned is the same brand of Chanel that Viktor used in the show.  
> [3] The Ray Bans I imagined are the Clubmaster Ray Bans.  
> [4] Viktor's fighter nickname is based off of a real Russian Mobster by the name of Viktor Bout. 
> 
> I based Viktor's fighter persona/technique off of Valery 'The Russian Hammer' Myasnikov. He is still an active fighter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the longish update. I may go back and edit it some since I didn't get much chance to beta it myself. 
> 
> As always you can find me on tumblr!
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	7. Act VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer update again woop woop. Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments as usual! :D I'm having so much fun continuing this story and creating this little world around Viktor and Yuuri. Thanks for sticking around!

Silence. 

Absolute silence from the crowd that surrounded him.

A few gasps chanted after a few seconds, and Yuuri kept up the pace with Viktor's mouth against his own. Viktor's mouth was rabid on his own not letting up and a ruthless hand had slithered its way into the Japanese man's hair. It was tugged insistently as he was pulled closer into their crushing embrace. The older Russian man was screeching and went to pull Viktor off the Japanese man. Viktor willingly retracted with a wink towards Yuuri. The press rushed forward to get to the two men, but Otabek yanked Yuuri away from the side of the ring. 

He was dragged through multiple people trying to capture his attention. A few desperate hands tugged at his suit, but he just ignored them while holding his sunglasses tightly to his face. Soon Yuuri was pushed into the Russian's locker room and planted on a bench. Otabek slammed one of the lockers shut as he sighed loudly. Yuuri had never seen Otabek lose his cool, but the man before him was breathing raggedly. He seemed visibly pissed off, however, he calmed himself after a few seconds to mold back into his stoic demeanor. 

“Stupid ass, Viktor.” He mumbled. 

Yuuri was still out of breath as he took off the sunglasses and carded a nervous hand through his mussed up hair. His brain was fried as he tried making sense of why Viktor did that. He didn't terribly mind altogether in the end, but Viktor always did everything for a reason. He wasn't the type of person to act on impulse. 

There had to be a reason he did that in front of millions. Yuuri just couldn't put his finger on it. 

“This is going to be all over the news. This isn't good.” Otabek said bitterly as he took a seat next to Yuuri. 

“Viktor will figure it out. He's good at that kind of thing.” Yuuri replied easily.

“Wait, look up at the television. Looks like we don't have to wait much longer.” Otabek said while standing and running over to the television to turn it up. Yuuri stood while straightening his vest and listened carefully. 

Viktor's name was plastered at the bottom of the news segment, and he stood with a male reporter. He had a used towel slung over his neck and was bandaged up at his eyebrow. The bandage didn't do much since he was still bleeding from the wound and the crimson line trailed down his face. It ran all the way down to his exposed chest, but Viktor didn't seem to mind. He had a serene smile on his face as the reporter closed in on him. 

_“Mr. Nikiforov! Care to explain what that was or who that was?”_

Viktor merely laughed with a wave of his gloved hand. _“What did it look like? I was tired of the assumptions about my personal life. Now it's out in the open. I hope I could surprise the audience today not only with my victory but with my actions.”_

_“Are you afraid that any sponsors will pull out due to you coming out as homosexual?”_

_“Not at all. Let them retract their contracts. It just shows who I won't be doing business with.”_

_“Who was that, care to elaborate?”_

_“I'm not ready to divulge in that information. No further questions.”_ He muttered as his upset coach hauled him away from the interview. 

Yuuri couldn't deny the slight pang in his chest at Viktor's words. He was most likely trying to preserve his identity, but now he was going to be known as the mystery man. He was certain the family back in Japan was already going forth on how to find Yuuri. Sweat broke out at the nape of his neck at the negative thought. 

After a few seconds, the locker room opened and press were hot on Viktor's heels. Plisetsky and Otabek slammed the door shut and fastened the lock. Both were flustered as they put their backs to the door. 

“Viktor! What in the fuck were you thinking?”

“You did that on international television!”

“Russia is not going to be pleased with your actions!” 

All three of the Russians hollered at him in unison. However, Viktor just had his eyes set on Yuuri with a satisfied grin on his bruised face. Viktor whipped the towel around his neck to the ground and placed the title belt to the ground as he made his way to Yuuri. Once he got close enough he trailed his fingers across Yuuri's cheek delicately with his bloodied fingers. 

Viktor's grin spread across his face like a rabid animal as he glared down at Yuuri. The Japanese man stopped breathing as the hand traveled to the back of his neck and hauled him to his feet. The other three men observed from the other side of the room before Viktor turned to them. 

“Leave.”

“Viktor--”

“I said leave now!” He barked furiously at them, and they immediately scrambled out of the locker room. Viktor turned his sights back onto Yuuri and used his leverage on Yuuri's neck to whip him around to the lockers. Yuuri's back ached as Viktor flung him against the harsh metal. The Russian's hand was instantly at the front of his throat squeezing the sides just enough to cut off a bit of air. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor purred lowly as his hips forced the Japanese man against the lockers more. Yuuri detected a bit of panic rise within him. This wasn't usually how Viktor acted. He had frenzied pupils that darted back and forth between Yuuri's anxious face and his physique. 

Viktor was practically naked before him as Yuuri stared to inspect the man. He had blood splattered here and there and some purple bruises littered his ribs. Yuuri reached out to nudge him, but he was only shoved further into the lockers at the action. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri choked out, and the hold lessened on his throat.“Let me go.” 

Viktor's crushing grip didn't let up, but he simply leaned forward to rest his forehead against Yuuri's own. After a few deep breaths, Viktor dropped his hand from Yuuri's sore throat. This caused Yuuri to inhale sharply, probably a bit too loud as he dropped to his knees. He didn't realize how dizzy he was, and the room was spinning around him violently. 

“Jesus, Yuuri, I'm sorry.” Viktor apologized profusely as he went to the floor with Yuuri. “Sometimes I get a bit overwhelmed after fights. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Yuuri glared up at Viktor and noticed he genuinely seemed upset by his actions. His panicked expression had a tinge of sadness as he outstretched his hands to lift Yuuri up. Once Yuuri was settled next to him, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He let his lips wander to place a kiss to the side of his head with care.

Yuuri regulated his breathing but wanted to leap away from the man's touch. He couldn't believe how Viktor lost control like that. It wasn't the norm for the Russian. Viktor's face softened and he observed Yuuri carefully. Yuuri timidly reached up to lace his fingers with Viktor's at his shoulder. This allowed Yuuri's free hand to go and caress the raw wound at Viktor's eyebrow. The Russian hissed at the contact and shut his eyes languidly. 

Yuuri stood and went over to one of Viktor's many gym bags. He had some workers haul them in before the fight so that they wouldn't have to. Yuuri dug around inside of them for a moment before producing a med kit. He made his way back over to Viktor and directed him by the shoulders to straddle the bench. Viktor sat wordlessly as Yuuri popped open the box and grabbed some rubbing alcohol. Viktor placed his hands on his thighs as Yuuri peeled back the tape on the Russian's eyebrow.

Viktor's face was still splattered with blood, so Yuuri initially went to wipe off all of the liquid. He noticed Viktor was also bleeding from his ear and profusely at that. There was a cut at the connection of his ear and skull, so Yuuri placed a tiny piece of gauze with tape to cease the excessive bleeding. He pushed back Viktor's fringe as he inspected his eyebrow. Cleaning that was easy since it was already healing over. It would probably require stitches. 

“There's some super glue in the kit.” Viktor murmured. Yuuri nodded as he picked up the narrow tube to bring it to Viktor's eyebrow. The Russian held back his own hair as Yuuri applied the liquid and used the butt of the tube to spread it evenly. Viktor smiled as Yuuri set the tube back down and observed the rest of Viktor's body.

“You're good at that.” 

“I've had a lot of practice from my job,” Yuuri replied as he started packing up the kit. Viktor reached out and ran his finger over the top of an old scar at the base of Yuuri's chin. The old scar started at Yuuri's left ear and went all the way down to the middle of his throat. 

“How about this one? It looks like one of the worst ones.” Viktor said wearily. Yuuri gripped his hand and began unwrapping the cloth between his fingers. 

“It wasn't even when I was actively working for the Yakuza. I got jumped when I was younger heading home from school.” Yuuri started. He discarded one of the hand wraps to the floor and noted Viktor's hands. They were harsh red at the knuckles and the sprained finger looked to be turning almost blue. It was probably broken at this point. Yuuri snatched one of the finger braces from the kit and tucked it onto Viktor's little finger easily. 

“What happened if you don't mind me asking?” 

“Two guys came up from behind me and one put a knife to my throat. They went on about threatening my family—they were part of a different Yakuza family. They had seen some of them hanging around my family hot spring so they assumed I was involved. I told them I knew nothing, and the guy slit my throat from my ear to the middle of my neck.” Yuuri explained as he cared for Viktor's other hand. 

“Jesus ” Viktor whispered. “I'm no stranger to wounds, but you were probably just a kid, right?” 

“I was thirteen. So about ten years ago it happened. I clamped my hand down on the wound and ran to the nearest shop. It actually happened to be my tattoo artist's place. She was the one who taught me all the first aid I needed once I integrated myself into the family.” 

“She sounds like an interesting woman.” 

“She's the best. A heavy drinker, I think you would like her.” Yuuri laughed as he eased himself up off the bench. All of Viktor's wounds were tended too, so he pushed the bag containing his clothes over to Viktor. 

“I'll get dressed. We have an after party to attend.” Viktor stated as he snatched the bag off the ground and went to the back of the locker room to head to the showers. Yuuri sighed as he cracked open the locker room door and made sure no press were outside. 

Only Plisetsky was outside resting against the opposing wall. He was fiddling around on his personal phone and glanced up. He had a scowl on his face, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Viktor is such a fucking idiot. It's already all over the news.” He stated as Yuuri went to stand beside him. Plisetsky passed his phone over to Yuuri to check out the article. It was on the front page of the ESPN website.

**Viktor 'The Merchant of Death' Nikiforov Shocks the Fighting World Again**

_**Las Vegas** \- Viktor Nikiforov of Russia didn't just shock the world tonight in Las Vegas with his sixth consecutive belt title, but with his actions after the fight. The fight went four rounds with Nikiforov winning by knockout in the last round. Many thought he might lose momentum when he seemed visibly gassed in round three, but that didn't stop the Russian. During the celebration, many people from his team swarmed the cage, but a particular person that no one has seen before was pulled up onto the mat. _

_During the celebration, Nikiforov pulled a young man to him and initiated an intimate kiss with him. Nikiforov commented after the fight on international television that he was sick of the accusations in his personal life. The other man is yet to be named but was spotted heading to the locker room of Nikiforov. The Russian is one of the first male mixed martial arts fighters to come out as openly homosexual. He said he anticipates backlash not only from sponsors but from his own country._

_Russia is notoriously known to have issues with its LGBT community. There are currently no laws against discrimination towards the community. There are many hate crimes occurring within the country most notably the attacks happening at Mid-Section, Russia's largest gay club. Only a few weeks ago there was an incident where a male was found beaten to death by a blunt weapon. **[1]**_

_Nikiforov himself received backlash in New York City and is currently awaiting trial next week. He is being charged with assault in the second degree after breaking a man's jaw in a New York City bar. Reports have come back that the man was discriminating Nikiforov for his lifestyle and threw a drink at him. Witnesses have testified that this did happen, and Nikiforov is hoping to be found Not Guilty on a second-degree assault charge._

_The events from tonight's fight can be found on our main page and more speculation on the match that shocked the world. Below is a shot by Leo de la Iglesia._

_**[Picture]** _

Yuuri scoffed as he handed the phone back to him. After he was finished Viktor stepped out of the locker room and swept his uncombed hair out of his eyes. He grinned wickedly and pointed to the room behind. 

“Yura, get my stuff. We have an after party to attend.” 

`

The hotel surprisingly allowed the group to hold a pool party after the brutal fight. It was an ideal night for it with the heat not sweltering around them. Yuuri did enjoy Vegas since it virtually seemed to have no humidity, unlike Japan. Yuuri could recall many blistering summers where the sweat-drenched his shirts, and he would always have to carry a spare when he attended school. So far in his life, Yuuri hadn't found the perfect weather type for him. He wasn't excited for the weather change when they would be leaving for New York City in the morning. Yuuri was currently waiting for Viktor to come out of the restroom, so he could also switch into his swimwear. 

Yuuri was already beginning to feel nervous. His hands had been shaking since Viktor mentioned how they would have to attend the party sans normal clothing. He didn't want to someone to spot his tattoos as Viktor had. Yuuri was really just thinking of skipping the party entirely since it did wonders for his nerves. He just wanted to curl up in the mounds of blankets adorning their bed and sleep until their flight. Yuuri didn't get a second to think on it before Viktor was exiting the restroom. 

Yuuri didn't even see the point of having a swimsuit if Viktor was going out like how he was presently dressed. The shorts were even shorter than his fighting spandex. They went all the way up to his upper thigh and hugged the taut muscle of his quads. The baby blue material complemented the Russian's eyes that were always a clear blue hue. The waistband was pitch black and tied expertly at the middle. 

Viktor snatched some random towel off the bed as he held out some shorts for Yuuri. The Japanese man raised an eyebrow at the obscene material and huffed out a sigh.

“What's wrong?” Viktor said.

“I'm not so sure I want to go to the party.” Yuuri mumbled as he crossed his arms. He had removed all his clothing save for his dress shirt and pants. He was prepared just to go to sleep and ignore the world for a solid eight hours. Viktor scoffed and moved closer to Yuuri. He dropped the shorts to the floor and leaned down to smile at Yuuri.

“Why not? You'll look great in these. I had them purchased just for you.” Viktor purred. 

“Spending all of your money on me won't persuade me to do _everything_ for you.” 

“But I like spending my money on you, darling.” Viktor replied bluntly as he nuzzled his stubbly cheek on Yuuri's clean-shaven face. Yuuri groaned as he forcefully pushed Viktor away and went to stand. Yuuri was sick of the cat and mouse game. He wasn't something to be toyed with anymore. He didn't want to waste his life being just a piece of meat on Viktor's arm. He needed to know what Viktor's intentions were. He couldn't just whirl around this life lost and feeling isolated even with a partner by his side.

“What is this relationship, Viktor? Are you just using me for some sick publicity stunt?” 

Viktor paused awkwardly for a moment. He looked to be in shock as he flicked the used towel in his hands to the chair Yuuri had just been sitting in. “What are you getting at, Yuuri?”

“I'm confused! You kiss me in front of international television for your own satisfactions, so the world knows about you. Did you even think the Yakuza wouldn't see that? If they look close enough, they'll know its me. They're going to put a hit on me.” Yuuri said with a panicked voice as he sat down on the bed. Viktor observed from a far and didn't move from his spot. 

“We barely speak, and I know next to nothing about you. I was basically taken captive by you.” 

“You're not a captive.” 

“How am I not? If I leave, you'll surely put a hit on me too. I'm fucked either way because my idiotic brain saw a chance at—at. . .” 

Viktor's eyes widened and he finally stepped over to erase the space between them. Viktor placed both his battered hands on either side of Yuuri's head. The Japanese man was breathing erratically, and Viktor noticed the panic rising up to his eyes. Yuuri's mouth went dry as pent-up emotions flew through him. 

_This can't be happening right now. He isn't supposed to see me like this. No one is,_ Yuuri thought as he held back a soft sob.

“Yuuri! Stop. Relax.” 

“It just doesn't work like that!” Yuuri growled. The crack in his voice alerted the Russian to pull Yuuri into his chest and embrace him gently. Yuuri squirmed for a second but the sturdy arms around him clung to him tighter. Viktor's pleading with him to restrain his emotions only fueled his attack more as he buried his face in the Russian's chest. He could hear the gentle sigh of Viktor as he pulled them to lay back against the bedding. 

Yuuri clamped his eyes shut as a hand carded through his hair gingerly. He could sense his hoarse breathing was going to back to normal as he focused on the hand in his hair. He noticed Viktor was also humming something so softly that Yuuri had to perk his ears up to recognize the tune. After a few more notes he recognized it as La Vie En Rose. 

He had heard the song in passing throughout his life. He didn't expect the Russian to be almost singing it to him especially during one of Yuuri's rare panic attacks.

__

_“Et, des que je l'apercois . . . alors je sens en moi.”_ Viktor actually sang out softly to himself. Yuuri sat up and extracted himself from the embrace. Viktor didn't cease his humming but sat up with the Japanese man. **[2]**

__

_“Mon coeur qui bat.”_ Both men softly said to each other. Yuuri then laughed boisterously suddenly disturbing the prolonged silence and leaned over to hug Viktor firmly. **[3]**

“Thank you, Viktor. No one has really done that for me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“My family always used to put me down for my anxiety. I would just sit alone and sometimes I was so close to passing out. You're the first person to really just ground me. I suppose.” Yuuri explained. Viktor's face softened at his words and he pulled Yuuri's face close to his own. Both men had gazed at each other for a second before Viktor narrowed the distance. 

This was the first kiss Yuuri could recall that was tender. Viktor was a harsh man and his actions usually mimicked his erratic behavior. But this was the side Yuuri enjoyed. The Viktor that not many people got to experience and he had all in just a week of meeting him. 

Viktor retracted almost as soon as it started and grinned. “We do have a party to attend, darling.” 

“Fine, I'll go. I'm not staying very long, however.” Yuuri groaned as he went back over to the shorts to change into them. He figured he could at least attend to appease Viktor a few hours. As much as he was still confused on their arrangement, he could push past his dreadful anxiety to spend some time with Viktor out in the real world. He trusted the Russian was serious when he said he would protect him from the threat in Japan.

The floral material of his swim shorts were vibrant in color and clashed with the dark background of the shorts. It had Hawaiian flowers plastered all over it as the design, all in all it was pretty frilly—not something Yuuri would usually pick for himself. Yuuri rolled his bleary eyes at the eccentric item and made way to slip into them. 

When he exited the bathroom Viktor let out a low wolf whistle. The sheepish grin plastered on Viktor's face was comical as he closed in on Yuuri. He bunched up the material in his fists and hauled the Japanese man closer by his hips. 

“You look delightful. See? Aren't my purchases the best?” Viktor mused as he placed a chaste kiss to Yuuri's lips. Yuuri giggled into the kiss as Viktor turned to lure him to the door. 

“You're fucking ridiculous,” Yuuri called out after the Russian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Central Station (the real place Mid-Section is based on) in St. Petersburg is actually known to have a lot of violent acts happening to the LGBT community.  
> 2\. The translated line of the song is "As soon as I notice him . . . I feel inside me."  
> 3\. The translated line of the song is "My heart beating."
> 
> As usual you can find me at my tumblr:
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	8. Act VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you everyone for the amazing feedback! I appreciate all the reviews they help me keep up with this plot line.
> 
> Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Got a little busy this week! 
> 
> Also putting a warning out there for this chapter. There is violence, but a very explicit sex scene at the end with erotic asphyxiation. I know this can be a trigger for some people but the scene begins with this symbol ~ if you care to skip it. It has nothing to do with the plot and is completely okay to skip it. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter! (:

The Wandalay had a vast selection of pools in the private bathing area. Thralls of people were already gathered around indulging in alcoholic drinks and the occasional party favor. Viktor knew how much Yuuri already didn't want to attend, so he parked him at the tiki bar and went off to mingle. Yuuri was leisurely sitting back away from the frenzied crowd with his overpriced beer just entranced in people watching. **[1]**

He didn't recognize many people, and he had already lost sight of Viktor. He was probably off being social since that was something he was good at. Viktor always seemed to have a way with words even when calming an anxious Yuuri or quietly whispering business into someone's ear. 

Yuuri still didn't know about Viktor's bravta habits. They rarely spoke about it, and it seemed Viktor was keener on his fighting career. Yuuri planned on their eight-hour flight tomorrow he would try to get some answers out of Viktor. He needed to know what he was up against at this point, it would help soothe him. Yuuri didn't particularly like walking blindly into something. This was breaking all his values, but he still believed they were worth it momentarily. 

Viktor peaked his interest. No mere person has crossed that barrier with Yuuri in years. The only thing he had been interested for so long was sleek metal and spilling blood. He never used to be that way, but once the seal was broken he wanted more. 

Yuuri was jolted out of his moment by a sculpted woman who was likely also involved in mixed martial arts. She was ordering the same beer that Yuuri had and took notice of the Japanese man next to her. The unknown woman was of Italian descent in Yuuri's opinion with olive skin that was moist from the pools. Her brunette hair was tied back in a bun, but a few strands mirrored her face. She flashed a wicked smile at Yuuri and turned to face him. 

“Hello!” She chimed out and took the leap to sit next to Yuuri. She let one of her hands go out to trace the elaborate tattoos on Yuuri's left arm and leaned closer to him. She reeked of alcohol as her breath washed over Yuuri's face. She also put too much weight on Yuuri as she leaned forward so he had to steady her by her sculpted shoulders.

“Your artwork is beautiful. I haven't seen tattoos like these. Who is your artist?” 

Yuuri could play this one of two ways. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation since he was waiting for Viktor to return from God knows where. He decided to go with his best plan. The one that never failed to work yet.

“I don't speak English.” He replied in fluent Japanese with a weak smile and his best doe eyes. The woman's eyes widened, and she giggled to herself with a dainty hand over her mouth. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you.” She said in fluent English. Yuuri thanked his stars that the woman didn't speak any Japanese. The woman didn't let up, however, and she reached up to touch Yuuri's face. He lurched away from her touch, and the woman just laughed once more at the action. She clearly wasn't getting the hint by his flinching.

“Would you like to go upstairs?” She said with a bit of slur as she mimicked the motion of going back to the hotel. She squeaked suddenly when a hand was placed on her shoulder. She glanced behind her and scrambled to get up out of the chair. 

“Viktor! How are you, love?” She said with a sultry tone. She pressed her entire body against his own and wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned up to tenderly kiss his cheek, but Viktor leaned away as well. He grimaced as he established space between them.

“So you obviously don't watch the news.” Viktor commented to himself in Russian. Yuuri caught the statement and chuckled delightedly to himself. The Italian woman scanned between the two men, and then unraveled herself from the Russian. She huffed out an angry sigh and placed both her hands on the men. 

“You're welcome to join, Viktor. I wouldn't say no to two gorgeous men.” She said before nibbling her lip and letting one of her eager hands drag down to Yuuri's groin. Yuuri swiped her hand away and quirked an eyebrow at her. Yuuri could vaguely hear Viktor growl as he snatched her wrist and yanked her closer. 

“You're being a bother, Sara. Please excuse yourself.” Viktor stated as he shifted her out of the way to sit with Yuuri. Sara gasped as she crossed her arms.

“I guess you just weren't playing with the media then. Fine, enjoy your Japanese _cuisine_.” She spat before storming off towards the pools. 

Viktor chuckled to himself as he ordered a vodka. He guzzled it down quite quickly before slamming the glass back down and harshly ordering another.

“What was that about?” Yuuri questioned easily molding back into English.

“Sara always ends up being at these parties. She doesn't fight anymore, but still always winds up here. We slept together years ago, and she still hasn't given up on it.” 

Yuuri was a bit taken back by Viktor's statement. He sampled his beer and moved to face him better.

“I thought you were. . .uh . .”

“One-hundred percent gay?” Viktor chuckled. “I wasn't always just interested in men. I enjoy women once in awhile. It's extremely rare these days, but Sara was during the time that anybody was welcome in my bed.” 

“Well, that's something new I learned about you.” Yuuri retorted. 

“Oh, you want to know more about me?” 

“Of course, I mean, I am with you almost 24/7.” 

“Darling, I also don't know much about you.” Viktor said as a group saddled up to him. There were a few men who all spoke Russian. They weren't dressed in pool attire but in tailored suits. They were questioning Viktor if he planned on gambling tonight. Viktor said he did intend on gambling once he was finished at the pool. 

It didn't take long for Viktor to want to leave the party after he was bombarded by a few more groups. Yuuri noticed Viktor had already ordered at least six drinks and had a slight sway to his step. They had probably only been there for another half hour before Yuuri was carted back up to their hotel room. Viktor instructed Yuuri to get dressed in business casual attire since they would be meeting with some American Russians who were also involved in Viktor's dealings. 

Since Yuuri didn't partake in the pools, he didn't have to wash the chlorine off so he was left alone to change. He inspected the vast closet and picked out a crimson silk shirt to slip on. Some grey slacks also joined his ensemble, and he tucked the shirt nicely into the slacks. Fortunately they were able to procure weapons once they landed so Yuuri was able to clip his holster into the front of his pants. He rummaged around in a black duffle bag and yanked out a standard nine millimeter pistol and slipped it into the holster. He concealed the weapon easily with the tails of his shirt. He thankfully found his Rolex that he had packed and fastened it to his left wrist. He decided to swap his oversized glasses for his contacts after some fumbling around by the vanity. 

Viktor exited the bathroom already dressed to the nines. He wore something simpler than this afternoon. Black pants with a matching vest and a pinstripe ivory shirt hugged his arms. He sauntered over to Yuuri and rummaged in a random box on the vanity. It was a jewelry box he could tell from the contents. So many shiny objects were thrown into it, and Viktor plucked out necklace and a ring. 

Viktor easily slid the signet ring onto his right hand and nervously twisted it a few times. He held out the necklace and went to stand behind Yuuri. Since Yuuri left his shirt collar open the necklace dangled just under his collarbone as Viktor fastened it behind him. He didn't linger much behind the Japanese man as he went to gather his wallet and cellphone. 

Yuuri glanced anxiously at the item in the mirror and leaned forward to see the necklace better. The charm hung from a sliver chain and it seemed to be older. The charm was in the shape of the blade of an axe and looked to be handmade. Yuuri took the metal between his fingers and caressed it softly. He let the charm drop back down to his chest as he turned on his heel. 

“Viktor, what is that for?” 

“It's my good luck charm. My father gave it to me right before I became Pakhan.” 

“And you don't wear it?” 

“I usually do, but I am not allowed to wear it during a fight. It's yours now and should keep you safe.” Viktor comfortably said as he waited by the door.

“Don't you need some luck when you gamble?” Yuuri mentioned as he went to follow Viktor.

“No, you are beside me. You can be the new charm.” Viktor said softly as he exited the hotel room with Yuuri in toll. Yuuri shook his head at the comment and let Viktor direct him to the casino floor thirty-three floors down. It was bustling with diverse types of people squirming to get to different machines and betting tables. 

High Limit is where Yuuri was taken to, and they met the Russians from before. They all shouted excitedly at whatever was happening at the table as Viktor closed in on them. A drink was easily passed to him, and he took a seat next to an older man. 

The older Russian had a bushy beard that was salt and peppered. He was chewing on a cigar that wasn't lit and clasped Viktor on the back once they were settled. 

“Viktor! Glad you could make it. Congratulations on your fight.” The man said.

“Thank you, Nikolai. What are playing, gentlemen?” Viktor replied dryly as he plucked a cigar from Nikolai's front pocket with a chuckle. Viktor checked the cigar to make sure it was cut, and then placed it in between his teeth. A lighter was produced in front of him from Plisetsky. 

The youthful Russian was standing behind Nikolai with an elbow resting against the chair back. He had a weary expression on his haggard face as Viktor puffed the cigar to life. The noxious smoke swirled around the men as they gabbed on about nothing noteworthy. He could see Viktor was observing his peers over the rim of his vodka. He already bought into the poker match, and Yuuri couldn't see his hand since he kept it flat on the poker table. 

“Yura, you haven't seen your grandfather for a long time. Get him a drink, won't you?” Viktor mused with a odd grin. Yuuri glanced uneasily between Plisetsky and Nikolai. They seemed to share a knowingly look between each other before the younger man went off to secure a drink. 

“Your grandson has been very faithful to us, Nikolai. Thank you for lending him to us.” 

“Viktor, you know I did not _lend_ him--more like you stole him from us.” 

“He was payment. A wise choice I would say so myself.” Viktor chuckled darkly as he threw a couple of chips onto the table. A few of the other men folded at the sight, and Yuuri continued to stand diligently behind Viktor. Nikolai glanced at the Japanese man slyly and scoffed.

“Adding some oriental to the collection as well, Viktor? I didn't take you as the type.” Nikolai said. Viktor was in the middle of lifting his cards up when Nikolai spoke. The cards in his hands crumpled under his grasp as he stood. He merely tossed a few bills onto the table and turned to stand next to Nikolai. 

It happened so fast that Yuuri almost missed it. Viktor gripped the back of the older man's head and drilled it into the poker table. Chips went flying everywhere as the other men clambered out of their seats, hands ready to draw weapons. Viktor leaned down as he put all his weight into the man's neck. 

Nikolai squirmed under his touch and was grunting wildly. Yuuri's own hand automatically went to rest at his belt buckle. He knew he could draw his weapon faster than anybody in the room if he had to. Everyone stood silently as Viktor picked Nikolai's head up slightly only ram it back into the table.

“Watch your tongue, Nikolai. I wouldn't hesitate to snap your neck in front of your grandson.” 

Yuuri glanced over to Plisetsky who was being held back by his arm. Otabek had a firm grasp on his bicep as Plisetsky ground his teeth at the sight. Viktor also took a second to look over with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Your grandson has better manners than you do. I came here for cigars and drinks, but here I am being insulted by a lowly piece of shit. Stay here in Vegas. I'd rather not cross paths again.” Viktor spit out as he let his hand go up to grasp the burning cigar in his mouth. Yuuri's eyes widened as he realized just what Viktor was about to do. Nikolai screeched as Viktor put out the cigar on the side of his neck. Plisetsky jumped out of Otabek's grasp to rush towards Viktor. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor simply said and Yuuri seized Plisetsky by his waist to restrain him. 

“Viktor, you fucker! Stop!” Plisetsky roared as he flailed in Yuuri's arms. Luckily, Yuuri was stronger than the young man and had no issue holding him back. Yuuri took his chance to hurl him to the ground with a harsh shove. Viktor released Nikolai and slipped his hands into his pockets calmly. 

“Clean yourself up, Yura. Your time with me isn't finished yet.” Viktor stated before snapping his fingers at Yuuri to follow him. 

'Viktor--”

“Not yet. Let's get to the hotel room.” 

The whole way up to the room was a bit awkward since Viktor's demeanor changed back into his rigid nature. He promptly went to the minibar once they settled back into the room and began drinking the tiny bottles one by one. He got through five by the time Yuuri made his way over to him. 

“What was all that about? I thought we were there to talk about business.”

“That was the business. Nikolai just decided to handle it the wrong way.” 

“What business? And what did he mean by collecting people?” Yuuri said as he stood with his arms crossed. 

Viktor was breathing heavily as he turned on his heels. His prying eyes raved over Yuuri's form as he looked at loss for words. It was rare to see Viktor unable to speak. 

“I don't collect people if that's what you're getting at. I didn't collect you. Yura was payment for what Nikolai owed my family.”

“That sounds like Plisetsky is a hostage.”

“He isn't a hostage when his father killed my mother.” Viktor suddenly stated with disdain in his voice. Yuuri hands dropped from where they crossed, and he suddenly wanted the room to swallow him up. 

'Viktor, I'm sorry.” 

Viktor didn't respond to his apology. Simply, just strolled past him while chugging down another mini vodka bottle. He tossed it to some unknown location as he started stripping his clothes and unbuttoned his shirt with deft fingers. Yuuri watched in confusion as Viktor made his way to him. 

“I want you. I'm tired of dancing around whatever this is.” He stated before yanking Yuuri towards him by his shirt collar. The motion was so rough Yuuri almost toppled over at the sheer force of Viktor's pull.

“Viktor, I don't think this is a good way to change the subject.” Yuuri muttered bitterly, but didn't get an answer as Viktor crushed his mouth to his. The distinct taste of vodka entered Yuuri's mouth as Viktor's tongue swirled around. Yuuri was whirled around suddenly as Viktor backed into the wall behind him. He rested against it with an impish grin on his face. He let his hands run across Yuuri's shoulders before pushing lightly. 

~

Yuuri was heaving trying to regain some breath from the intoxicating kiss. Viktor bit his lip as he leaned forward to drag his vulgar tongue up and down Yuuri's shapely neck. The man shuddered at the delicious feeling as Viktor's hands pressed down on his brawny shoulders again. 

“Yuuri,”

“What?” 

“Get on your knees for me.” 

Yuuri wanted to protest with a witty comment, but Viktor grasped his face with his right hand. He could feel Viktor's fingernails digging into his skin and the mild pain ran through his spine. Yuuri could feel his own arousal building as Viktor's other hand curled itself into his sleek hair. Viktor pulled at the strands and Yuuri groaned at the intense sensation.

“Please,” Viktor whispered hotly against Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri glanced up into the fiery eyes of the Russian before sighing. He placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Viktor's mouth before retreating to the ground. Viktor let out a satisfied breath as Yuuri unfastened his slacks with haste.

Viktor was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and Yuuri watched as his controlling hands went up to clutch at his neck. Yuuri was in the process of palming Viktor as he observed the scene before him. Viktor placed his left hand at the middle of his throat and gripped it harshly. He could follow the prominent cords of Viktor's throat rise at the pressure as his right came over to lay against his other hand. Viktor made a clicking noise in his throat as he exerted more pressure to his windpipe.

Yuuri was confused by the odd motion, but went back to work as he crooked his fingers in Viktor's briefs to pull his clothing down. Viktor's manhood stood proudly before Yuuri as he let his breath wash over Viktor's groin. The powerful man above him growled fiercely at the sensation, and Yuuri took a peak at his face again. 

He could definitely make out that Viktor was flexing his hand back and forth to carefully close off his airway. He was actually strangling himself to the point of his body squirming to try and regain some breath. Viktor cracked his eyes open to glance down at Yuuri. 

“Is this okay?” He murmured. 

“Why wouldn't it be okay?” 

“It scares people off sometimes. It's just something I enjoy if done correctly.” 

“By all means, go ahead. Just be safe.” Yuuri replied before suddenly wrapping his parched lips around Viktor's cock. The Russian let out a boisterous moan at the action and clasped at his constricted throat again with eager hands. Yuuri could hear the soft wheezing above him as Viktor struggled to breathe and let his moans out. Yuuri let both his hands rest at Viktor's bruised hips and he dug his thumbs into them. He massaged the spastic muscles there as he continued letting Viktor thrust into his mouth. 

The Russian's hips cantered roughly to each of Yuuri's ministrations. Yuuri grinned sheepishly around Viktor's cock as he reached down to slip his hands down to his own groin. He was quickly becoming too hard to bare. Viktor gasped as he rammed his head into the wall behind him. The deafening sound was so loud that it made Yuuri jolt away from his own touch.

“Don't touch yourself.” Viktor growled out. 

Yuuri let the organ pop out of his mouth lewdly as he leaned back on his heels. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” 

Yuuri stood up to bat Viktor's hands away from his throat and replace them with his own. Viktor gasped as Yuuri applied enough pressure to make him dizzy. Yuuri seized this as his chance to direct him to the bed and forced him to set on the edge of it. Yuuri used his sore knees to push Viktor's knees apart and kneel above him. Yuuri took Viktor's mouth as they kissed hungrily and after a few seconds Yuuri released Viktor's throat. 

“You have to tell me,” Yuuri said as he reluctantly released Viktor's lips with a gasp. “You have to tell me if it's too much.”

“If what is too much?” Viktor frantically whispered. 

“This,” Yuuri once more began cutting off Viktor's air supply. The Russian moaned as Yuuri sat on his lap. The coarse material of his slacks rubbing against Viktor's arousal. Yuuri cantered his hips down to rub again and he could see Viktor's eyes roll into the back of his head. 

Once again Yuuri released Viktor's throat and leaned down to place a delicate bite to the moist skin. Viktor panted as Yuuri's hips kept moving against his own. 

“Do you want me to fuck you again?” Viktor gasped as Yuuri moved expertly over his lap. 

“Not enough time.” Yuuri growled out as he kept up his pace. Viktor whined at the chaotic motion of Yuuri dry humping him faster. Yuuri once again started choking the Russian as his other hand went up to his mouth. He let his tongue poke out to wet his calloused palm and retreat down to his cock. He pulled it free from the confines of his boxers to pump at it eagerly. 

Viktor shifted his hands to grasp desperately at Yuuri's back side and utilized his strength to pull Yuuri's hips harder onto his groin. Viktor was turning red and visibly struggling to breathe. Yuuri could tell Viktor was close by his fingernails digging so harshly into his ass that he was sure there was going to be cuts. 

Viktor forcibly opened his eyes and was about to tell Yuuri to stop when they caught each other's gaze. When their eyes connected Yuuri grimaced and concealed his face into the Russian's chest with a shout. He came onto Viktor's pristine shirt as Viktor desperately kept aggressively moving his hips. Yuuri didn't realize he was squeezing Viktor's throat harder before an ungodly yell came from Viktor's mouth as he crashed into his orgasm.

Yuuri instantly released his throat at the feeling of viscous liquid coating him. Viktor inhaled so deeply he thought Viktor was going to pass out from how loud the strangled gasp was. Viktor kept directing Yuuri's hips for a few more seconds before completely falling back onto the filthy bed. 

Yuuri rose from his position and winced at the dull sound of his knees cracking. He disrobed himself of all saturated clothing as Viktor kept panting to himself. Viktor had taken another second before he sat up and swayed left and right at the motion. 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri questioned timidly as he crawled up next to Viktor. The Russian wrapped one of his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, and he placed a kiss into his damp hair. Yuuri let his fingers trace tiny patterns over the Russian's exposed chest.

“Never better.” He said hoarsely before yanking Yuuri down with him to the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wandalay hotel is modeled after the Mandalay Bay hotel in Las Vegas. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Can't wait to pump the next one out. >:)


	9. Act IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you everyone for such wonderful feedback and enjoying the ride! So, I finally got my entire outline out on paper instead of in my head. Should be popping out more chapters now. 
> 
> Obligatory Christmas section rolling through since the holiday is around the corner. Most of the areas mentioned in New York I've been too, so I was trying very hard to recall the scenery. Fluffier few chapters to come on through since the boys deserve a bit of happiness before the storm. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and I really appreciate all the comments kudos!

Christmas time in New York was apparently a big hoot. Yuuri was immediately exhausted after the tedious subway ride and weaving in between thralls of people on the streets. Yuuri didn't think he would loathe the subway as much as he did. However after being pushed into the wall a few times and having sweaty passengers cling to him, he never wanted to have the experience again.

Fifth Avenue was remarkable with the lights twinkling to and fro and the crisp air kissing his cheeks. He had only heard mention of the area in classic movies and television, but it was much more elaborate than he expected. The whole city was onboard with the holidays and was decorated to the nines. Snowflakes plastered all over the historic buildings and the hint of a gargantuan pine tree off in the distance. 

Their hotel wasn't as festive as the other buildings, but stood proudly on East 55th off of the historic street.The notable building was quite large and had menacing gargoyles defending it from above. The building resided a good fifteen minute walk from Central Park, and it screamed elegance as they pulled up to it. Two entries sat on either side of the building and flags adorned the doorway above. **[1]**

Yuuri clutched his luggage to him as he was dragged into their residence for the week. Viktor had court on Thursday and would be leaving that following Friday to head back to Russia with Yuuri in tow. Yuuri was convinced he had never travelled this much in his life and the exhaustion was catching up to him. He caught the sight of his baggy eyes every once in awhile in the reflection of car window or falls asleep almost anywhere. He was glad he inherited that trait from his father. The subway would have been the perfect location for a cat nap, but every grind of the rails jolted him awake. 

Once they made it to the front counter Viktor in all his glory spoke easily to the front desk concierge. He went on and on about their extensive travels and Yuuri could sense the woman was not really in the mood to hear Viktor speak. She had her hair tied back so tightly that Yuuri was sure surprised she wasn't suffering from a headache. Her harsh features were more prominent as she scowled all the way through Viktor's rambling. She was clearly typing away at the computer trying to bring up their reservation and push them on through. 

“Mr. Nikiforov, you have the regal suite on the nineteenth floor. How are you paying? Cash or credit?” The attendant questioned, interrupting one of Viktor's rants about the frigid weather. Viktor patted his coat pocket and yanked out his billfold to slide a card onto the granite top. The woman plucked the card from the stone and before swiping it she gave one final glance.

“Your total is 28,083 dollars for a four night stay and of course, a incidental charge will also appear on your statement. This will drop out after check out on Friday morning.” She deadpanned. Yuuri was in the middle of inspecting the hotel décor when he whipped around to gape at Viktor. The Russian didn't seem phased by the price and leaned forward on the counter.

“Is that including the bed and breakfast option?” 

Yuuri could feel the sweat breaking out at the back of his neck. He wanted to interrupt and offer a more economical hotel option, but Viktor's card was already being swiped. Yuuri let out a horrified squeak as Viktor happily seized his credit card from the woman and headed towards the elevators. Yuuri followed suit with his shoulders slumped. 

“What's wrong, darling?” 

Yuuri jumped at the sound of Viktor's distinct voice bouncing off of the elevator walls. “Nothing, I was just appalled at the pricing of the room.” 

Viktor chortled as the doors split open to their floor. Viktor led the way with ease and soon they were in their suit. 

Yuuri suddenly understood why the room was so expensive. Two ebony doors swung open to reveal a long corridor. Viktor's oxfords clicked against the polished hardwood floors as he dumped his belongings in the private bedroom. The bedroom was quaint naturally with a king sized bed occupying most of the room. The accents on the wall showed an intricate pattern painted over with a crimson paint. The main entertainment room shared similar colors but was more elaborate with pure white chairs speckled throughout the luxurious room. 

It even had an entire kitchen that was ready to use, Yuuri made sure to remember that. He knew how expensive dining in New York City was. He was sure Viktor wouldn't mind splurging on eating out, but Yuuri enjoyed cooking when he had the time. Growing up in an inn, he assisted his mother a lot in the kitchen and thought fondly about it. 

This entire place was the size of an apartment. It was more than enough room for Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor hadn't removed any of his clothing and he waited patiently as Yuuri took in the rooms. Yuuri would mostly mull over if he wanted to even peak at the bathroom. He was hoping for a deep soaking bathtub, that would be ideal. He would make sure to see if he could spot any stores that sold bathing salts and smells. Something about lavender always lulled him into relaxation. **[2]**

His thoughts were broken by Viktor making an odd noise at him, and then grabbing him by his shoulders. Yuuri was spun around, and Viktor observed him under a scrutinizing gaze. Viktor held a leather clad finger to his lips and cocked his head to the side playfully. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and Yuuri could audibly hear the scratch of his budding stubble as he rubbed a hand across his prominent chin.

“This simply won't do. Let's go on a little adventure.” 

“Wait, what's wrong?” Yuuri said while taking a step back. He glanced down at himself honestly confused on what Viktor was speaking about.

“Your clothing. You deserve some well-tailored outfits. Let's go!” Viktor exclaimed as he snatched Yuuri's wrist. Yuuri yelped as he was pulled all the way through the hotel until they arrived on the corner of 5th and 55th. 

New York was blindingly wild in all it's being. Cars never ceased their mighty horns and the chime of voices floated in the chilly December air. Viktor was adjusting his sunglasses as he inhaled deeply. He exhaled just as loudly and his cool breath floated listlessly above. Viktor grinned slyly at Yuuri before jerking his head towards the Northwest. They huffed it a few blocks before Viktor made an abrupt turn into a store. 

Yuuri tilted his head to catch the Armani sign plastered above. Of course it also had to scream it was located on 5th Avenue. Yuuri rolled his eyes and chuckled at the sign. Viktor was holding the glass door open waiting on Yuuri to make a move. **[3]**

“Are you coming, or what?” 

Yuuri took his time entering the establishment and spun around on his heels examining the room. Minimalist shelves were stacked high with name brand shoes along with the walls having rows and rows of clothing. Yuuri didn't even know where to start, he was always given clothing or wore the same suit consistently. Luckily Viktor was already directing him to a specific area. 

A stone staircase curled it's way up to the very top of the building and Viktor took two steps at a time. Yuuri picked up his speed just to catch up with the eager Russian. Viktor was already yanking items off shelves. He started tossing them carelessly at Yuuri who just held out his arms diligently to catch the items. The valuable materials were so delicate to the touch Yuuri was afraid he would muck them up.

He had a habit of ruining clothes especially with an occupation like his. He tended to do most of his shopping when he had to at basic department stores. At least he didn't feel bad when a white shirt got splattered with blood. The pile was getting exceedingly heavy, and Yuuri heaved as he dumped all the items onto the dressing counter. A little wisp of a man smiled widely at Yuuri as he rounded the counter to assist Yuuri out of his track jacket.

“Are we doing some major shopping, gentlemen?” The man questioned as Viktor sauntered up with a few more accessories. Viktor leaned forward onto the counter on his elbows, flashing one of his dazzling grins.

“Why yes! My friend here is in dire need of a wardrobe change. I happen to adore him in grey. Wouldn't you think this would look lovely on him?” Viktor rambled as he held up the items he had plucked off the walls to the young man. 

The boy was dressed impeccably. The violet overcoat he wore was buttoned and fit so tightly along his lanky arms. He sported a scarf under the coat, and Yuuri could spot a plain V-neck under the fashionable attire. His pants also matched the light blue scarf that Yuuri was becoming more interested in. It seemed so soft, and Yuuri just wanted it curled around his neck. He had highly underestimated how cold New York was when he was doing some speed shopping in the Las Vegas mall.

The boy was no older than eighteen in Yuuri's opinion, but he was a fine looking kid. Probably having a job at Armani helped. Yuuri chuckled at the thought.

“I concur, sir. This gentleman will absolutely love your choices.” The kid said with a wink directed explicitly at Viktor. The boy had a rosy tint to his cheeks and Viktor replied to his comment with a delighted giggle. Yuuri scoffed at the boy and snatched the items off the table. 

“I'm going to try this on.” He mumbled to himself as Viktor started light conversation with the salesperson. 

It didn't take long for Yuuri to pull all the items on. He made sure to mind his bandaged leg so that none of his stitches would get tangled in the clothing. The wound was healing still, but at least it wasn't bothering him anymore. The clothing felt so heavenly against his skin he couldn't help but run his hands over it. He could really get used to consistently looking like a million dollars as long as he could afford such luxury. 

Once he exited the dressing room Viktor shifted his gaze over to him. Yuuri could see the instant change within the Russian as he clambered up and brought a hand up to his cheek. Viktor hadn't shaved in a few days so there was a dusting of coarse grey shadow across his face. He scratched it nervously as he examined the outfit he chose. Yuuri turned to the full-length mirror to his right to inspect the complete ensemble. 

The double breasted coat was painted to his skin so that every curve and dip of his developed muscles resonated under the material. The grey was a great contrast to his darker skin and the sweater underneath was sewn in a intricate pattern. The sweater had minuscule triangles littered in a distinct parallel pattern and stood out from his suit. The shoes were remarkably comfortable, and Yuuri was absolutely relived at the feeling. He didn't need to be trudging around New York with stiff shoes. 

Viktor snapped his fingers suddenly breaking the moment and skittered away. Yuuri turned from the mirror to raise his arms lazily at the salesperson. 

“How does it look?” 

“Absolutely to die for. Mr. Nikiforov was correct in his choice. You look delectable in grey.” 

“Yuuri! Try this on now!” 

Viktor appeared out of nowhere and slipped something over his shoulders. It was so heavy Yuuri let out a small 'oof' at the weight. He leaned back again to catch his reflection once again and hugged the coat tighter to his frame. It was so fluffy, and the peacoat actually had a hood draped backwards. As much as Viktor was quite eccentric in his tastes, he at least took into consideration what Yuuri appreciated in clothing. Comfort was his biggest factor in choosing outfits, and he was grateful Viktor caught on to that. 

“I want that same suit in navy, black, and beige. The coat works with everything so we will take that. Yuuri has enough shoes to match with the other suits, so we will just purchase the grey ones today.” Viktor commanded the young boy who was off to the races at the sound of Viktor's authoritative voice. **[4]**

Yuuri didn't even stay around for the total of Viktor's purchase. He knew it would cause another stress sweat or even an aneurysm if his blood pressure allowed it. Once they had exited the boutique Yuuri's arms already stung with the pain of holding so many bags. Viktor had taken it upon himself do a bit of shopping himself and the weight was significantly more than Yuuri's belongings. 

Viktor suggested they drop the bags off at the hotel since there was somewhere he wanted to take Yuuri. Luckily all they had to do was deposit the bags at the front desk a few blocks away, and they were already on another trek to an unknown location. It was getting late into the evening as they strolled south down 5th Avenue. 

The glittering snow was beginning to trickle down from the sky in delicate flakes. Yuuri let one of his gloved hands reach out to let them fall softly into his palm. They melted instantly, but the large flakes would definitely reside until the next morning on the frigid ground. Yuuri could feel the heat of Viktor's fascinated stare on him as they crossed the street to continue on their way. 

“Do you like Christmas?” Viktor questioned out of the blue. 

“Christmas isn't celebrated like Americans do. It's actually more of, um, a romantic holiday.” Yuuri noticed a puddle in his way and made sure to wisely avoid it like the plague. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the outfit he just acquired. “How about in Russia? I'm unknowledgeable about their customs.” 

Viktor rounded a corner, and Yuuri took note that they were now moving down 51st. “Christmas was technically banned when I was a little child. I was about twelve when it was legally allowed to celebrate. It's more of a religious holiday. We very much enjoy New Year. That's the time for presents and drinking. Plus I really didn't notice Christmas because it falls on my birthday.” **[5]**

Yuuri stopped altogether in his tracks and took a hold of Viktor's hand. Viktor returned the grasp and squeezed Yuuri's hand lightly. 

“It's your birthday tomorrow? Why didn't you tell me?” 

“It's not something noteworthy. I'm just getting another year older.” Viktor sighed as he retracted from Yuuri to push his flowing hair back out of his eyes. A hint of profound sadness danced across his face and Yuuri felt a pang in his heart at the sight.

Yuuri stepped forward to wind his arm with Viktor's and let the taller man lead the way. “How old are you turning?” 

“It is rude to ask someone their age.” Viktor chortled as they waited at an intersection. “But just for you, I am turning thirty. Don't tell anybody.” He craned his neck down to playfully whisper the last sentence into the shell of Yuuri's ear. Yuuri shivered at the sound invading his senses before finally glancing up to where they were heading. 

The entire area was packed with people chattering easily. He wasn't surprised to see so many bodies packed into the Rockefeller Center on Christmas Eve. Soft music wafted in the air as they closed on the Christmas tree. Yuuri only caught a glimpse of earlier it that morning on the walk from the subway. He couldn't even fathom the object as they drew closer to its location. Yuuri caught the scent of cinnamon and the faint hint of gourmet chocolate mixed with it. 

The radiant lights hypnotized Yuuri as they stood off to the side of the tree. Couples and families gathered here and there to snap photos together. Viktor had disappeared to the cart near him that was selling alcohol. It was branded with an establishment name, and Yuuri craned his neck to see the actual store front was far off. Viktor returned within seconds with two paper cups steaming away. **[6]**

“Hot wine. It's the perfect concoction.” Viktor mused. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was interrupted by an older man and his son tapping him on the shoulder. Yuuri had noticed the pair slinking up to them a few moments earlier, but wasn't paying any mind until the moment they entered their personal space.

“Excuse me, are you Viktor Nikiforov?” The father asked as he clutched his cellphone his right hand. 

Viktor completely changed his facial expression to one Yuuri was familiar with. It was his fake smile that was usually masking his annoyance. Yuuri only saw it on a few rare occasions, but he had never encountered a fan before with Viktor. Yuuri honestly forgot how popular UFC was and how worldwide Viktor was known.

Viktor waved a hand in the air dramatically and stroked his puffed out chest. “Yes, I am. Would you like a photo?” 

“Yes! Dad! Can we?” The child piped up excitedly. 

Viktor crouched down to the boy's height and set his wine down on the ground. The boy couldn't have been older than eleven years old. He giddily smiled up at Viktor as he shifted to crouch next to the boy. The father brought his phone out to snap a photo rather quickly and tried gathering his son. 

“You were awesome on Friday! You totally kicked his as—ow!” The young boy yelped as his father flicked his ear harshly. Yuuri barked out a laugh at the kid's antics and tried to hide it with his wine.

“Language!” The older man hissed. 

Viktor genuinely laughed and patted the young boy's head as he stood. He took a sip of his heady wine before flashing yet another brilliant smile at the kid. 

“Better get to training, young one. This didn't happen over night.” Viktor made an exaggerated motion of pointing at himself during his statement.

“Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov. Good luck whenever your next fight is.” The father sternly nodded and the two shook hands before the fans departed. 

Yuuri was stifling a bubbly laugh with his cup once Viktor turned back around with a puzzled expression.

“What is so funny, darling?”

“You,” Yuuri leisurely sipped his wine. He was surprised how flavorful the intoxicating wine was. It slipped down his throat easily to warm his insides. “You are ridiculous.” 

“What ever do you mean?” Viktor feigned childlike innocence as he stepped forward to wrap his brawny arm around Yuuri's neck. He placed a sloppy kiss to Yuuri's temple and turned him to watch the ice rink below. 

Yuuri wasn't too keen on how ice skating competitively worked however he was entranced by the few that actually could skate. People either expertly dashed across the frozen surface or fell embarrassingly on their ass. He could hear the rumble of Viktor's laugh every now and again when he spotted a particularly clumsy person. 

Yuuri took his eyes off the ice to glance over to Viktor. His eyes were still set on the ice rink, squinting and focusing so clearly on the skaters. His chiseled jaw was set tightly, and Yuuri could clearly see his stubble now. It was the longest he had seen it and he secretly hoped Viktor would grow it out. It would probably look absolutely gorgeous like the rest of him. 

Something about Viktor in such a relaxing setting was calming. No bodyguards, no fights to attend. Viktor was actually being himself. Yuuri had only gotten to see a few glimpses of the man underneath the harsh exterior. Slowly but surely it was coming out more and more. Yuuri promised mentally to himself to be unselfish. He could also give a little back. 

“Hey, Viktor. Wait right here. I'm going to go grab something.” 

Yuuri didn't know exactly what he was searching for when he left Viktor. The whole center was disorienting, but a sparkly shop drew him in. The doorbell chimed as he slithered in and began inspecting all the of fine jewelry when an eccentric salesman popped up before him. The man waved on and on about all the items for show, but a particular item suddenly came into sight. **[7]**

He was ignoring all valuable necklaces since he knew Viktor couldn't wear them while fighting. However, he noticed the man never wore a watch. Only a few select watches were on display. He ran through a list of colors Viktor had mentioned once that would always work with everything. Fortunately the watch he had his eye on was black, he knew Viktor would approve of this. 

Yuuri instructed the salesperson to pack that watch up. He would be taking it. He held his breath as the total was stated to him. Yuuri couldn't recall a time he had ever spent that amount of money. He figured with it being Viktor's birthday and all he had bought him today it would justified. The swipe of his credit card jabbed at his heart. 

Strutting out of the shop nine thousand dollars poorer and one watch heavier he sought out the Russian. He kept it secretly in his breast pocket as he slithered up to Viktor and danced his gloved fingertips across his neck. He let his arm come around to wrap around his waist and let his head rest tenderly on his upper arm. 

Viktor tilted his head to the side to stare down at Yuuri. He sighed contently and nodded towards an elegant restaurant. “Care to get some food?”

“Do you even have to ask? I'm _starving_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The Hotel being described is the St. Regis in New York City. It is located on East 55th near Fifth Avenue. It's really a gorgeous hotel on the outside.  
> [2] The room that Yuuri and Viktor are staying in is the Grand Suite at the St. Regis. It is between 5,000 - 7,000 USD a night to stay there.  
> [3] The shop they visit is the Giorgio Armani Boutique off of Fifth Avenue as well. It's about a block and some change away from the hotel.  
> [4] Yuuri's outfit was modeled after a style from last year's Armani winter collection. Through research his suit would have cost about 1,500 USD and the peacoat would be around 1,900 dollars. The shoes are also 405 USD. If we take into account that he purchased four suits for Yuuri his total is about **8,300 USD** and that isn't including what he purchased at the shop for himself either. (I also highly enjoy a sharp suit, so this AU has been exceedingly fun to break out the suits)  
>  [5] Christmas is pretty low key in both cultures. Both Yuuri and Viktor explain how Christmas is to them. I didn't go too in depth about it. Fried Chicken is also VERY popular in Japan during Christmas time. I also highly suggest looking into Christmas in Russia, it is very interesting with the secretive Christmas and the lore behind it.  
> [6] The cart and the store are based off of the store front Morrell at Rockefeller Center. Also the hot wine is a nod to what Viktor was drinking during their shopping spree in Barcelona.  
> [7] The watch Yuuri purchases is the Jaegar LeCoultre Master Ultra Automatic Men's Watch. It is priced at 8,040 USD. 
> 
> Lots of little notes in this one. I enjoyed Christmas time in New York and liked the excuse to write about it. Hope you all enjoyed the fluffy chapter, it's a nice break away from the angst and danger that these two are in. See you next chapter, thanks for reading!
> 
> As usual you can find me at Tumblr at  
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	10. Act X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super sorry for such a late update! Holidays are my busiest time of year for work so I got a bit sidetracked. 
> 
> Are we ready to learn more about Viktor? Hell yes we are. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for all the kind comments and kudos! They are highly appreciated. :D

The elegant restaurant the Viktor hauled him into annihilating his senses upon entering. Rosemary wafted in the air as Viktor chatted up the host. The restaurant was filled to the brim with patrons, but he observed as Viktor slid a couple of bills towards the woman with a wolfish grin. The young woman's shrewd eyes bugged out as she thrust the bills into her sleeve. She snapped her fingers with haste and both men took off following her. **[1]**

They were ushered into a private table in encased by a broad sheet. It was draped from the ornate ceiling and was completely see through. It added a hint of privacy but was most likely just for show. Viktor kindly pulled out his chair for him, and then took his own spot across from Yuuri. The hostess handed them menus and informed them a server would be with them shortly. Viktor tried to secretly yank his reading glasses out of his breast pocket, but they clattered to the table. He spluttered embarrassingly and tucked them onto his face.

“Have you eaten here before?”

“No! But I am a fan of Greek cuisine. I eat it a lot in my diet regiments.”

“I traveled to Greece once for work. It's breathtaking.” Yuuri murmured as he carefully scanned the drink menu. He didn't particularly like bringing up his past works because he knew how off putting it could be. He assumed Viktor wouldn't mind, but he still wanted to be polite.

Once the waiter came around Viktor interrupted him to order a specific bottle of wine, and the waiter was off to make the request mumbling to himself. After a few moments he snapped his menu shut and placed it on the other side of the table. The purple light gleaming from above reflected off his hair almost giving it a violet tone. The lighting in the restaurant was already very low so it was hard to make out Viktor's expression.

“I'm getting the swordfish. Have you decided yet?”

“Um,” Yuuri was a bit overwhelmed with the prices however he was gradually becoming used to it. This was how Viktor lived, and he was just going to have to adapt. He hadn't got a second before the waiter was back at their table easily pouring wine into their glasses. He set the wine bottle down gingerly before turning to Viktor. **[2]**

“And for you?”

“I'll have the Swordfish.”

“Would you prefer that oven baked or grilled?”

“Grilled, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

Yuuri stammered for a moment before lifting his menu up to the patient waiter to point at his item. He wasn't entirely sure on how to properly pronounce it so he opted for showing the waiter.

“Ah! Excellent choice. The Carabineiros is my favorite dish. Any appetizers for you, gentlemen?”

“Can we get an order of the Kumamoto oysters?” Viktor grinned before sampling his wine.

“Of course, I'll be back momentarily.” And with that he was gone fluttering away to another table.

Viktor was in the middle of picking some lint off his suit when he glanced up to meet Yuuri's gaze. He smiled softly and sipped at his red wine once more. The man quirked an expressive eyebrow at him, and then laughed softly to himself.

“You're not used to being spoiled, are you?”

“No, I usually am pretty conscious on how I spend my money.” Yuuri blushed as he lifted his wine glass up to his lips. It wasn't heavy which Yuuri was grateful for he didn't need to get a wine headache tonight. Blackberries were the main note he tasted, but all in all it tasted like normal wine. He was sure Viktor knew all about fine wines and heady whiskeys. He was a man of elaborate tastes. He never would have suspected that with the dingy apartment he initially found him in.

The thought raced through his mind quicker as he took apart each detail of the apartment he recalled. It wasn't anything like Viktor. It was small, dank and had nothing of value in it. Hell, he couldn't even recall seeing personal items throughout the place. Yuuri lifted his head and tilted it to the side inquisitively.

“The apartment. That's not your real home isn't it.”

“Pardon?”

“The apartment we, um, went to the that night. That's not your house.” Yuuri explained as he toyed with the stem of his wine.

“Oh,” Viktor blinked a few times.“That's correct. I stay there more so than my home. It's quieter and closer to the city. Fewer people barging in to bother me.”

An unfamiliar emotion flashed across his face and Viktor cleared his throat. Yuuri watched as Viktor loosened his tie and let one hand come down to thumb open his suit jacket.

"What's your real house like then?”

“In due time, Yuuri. You'll get to meet my dog. He's wonderful, I miss him a lot.”

“What kind of dog is he?” Yuuri eagerly questioned. The mention of anything about Viktor's life immediately peaked his interest. Viktor chuckled and flicked his hand around dramatically as he spoke.

“Makkachin's a standard poodle. He's such a good boy with me being gone a lot. Yura stays with him at the stronghold when I'm off doing business.”

Yuuri tried imagining the spitfire Russian playing with an adorable poodle. The thought was humorous and brought a bubbling laugh out of his throat. In an instant their oysters were placed delicately in front of them, and Viktor went to dig into them.

The continuous noise he made while devouring them was very crass and it made Yuuri pick at his own with a fork harder. The slurping he was used to from his own culture. However, just the sight of the man he was involved with tonguing at the shellfish was making his face hot.

Viktor also had the horrendous habit of talking with food in his mouth. He had a napkin up to his throat catching any droppings, but he was still muttering on about something. Yuuri couldn't quite catch what he was saying and leaned forward a bit.

“Viktor, you're mumbling. What did you say?”

“I said,” He cleared his throat rather loudly. Yuuri noticed a few patrons take a glance over to their table and flushed even more at their prying eyes. “I hope you're enjoying New York despite us being here for the court date.” 

Yuuri pondered on Viktor’s comment for a second but set his fork down to place both palms on his thighs. He chuckled softly, and then reached out to stroke one of Viktor’s free hands with the pad of his forefinger. 

“I’m having a great time. It’s different than what my normal life is.” Yuuri stuttered for a moment, his face flushed. “I’ve never really had normal, and this is as close as it’s come. So, thank you, Viktor.” 

It was Viktor’s turn to flush a bit, and he softly replied a thank you before gesturing once again with his hands. He motioned all around the restaurant in a grand motion with his wine glass held high.

“I’d love to live here. Wouldn’t that be spectacular?” 

Yuuri chuckled at the notion of Viktor just floating between boutique to boutique purchasing everything and anything. He would fit into the stereotype of typical New Yorker. “Yeah, this is the perfect place for you.”

“I don’t have any fights scheduled for the rest of the year. Maybe I should stay here for a bit.” Viktor continued. Yuuri detected a bit a sadness behind his voice as the Russian picked at an oyster. He didn’t comprehend what Viktor could be so sad about. Yuuri was about to ask, but the waiter interrupted him by placing their dishes in front of them.

Dinner came and went with casual conversation and Viktor letting his soft side spill out little by little. He went on and on about his poodle to Yuuri as he stuffed his face with overpriced fish. Yuuri didn’t even want to look at the bill, and he didn’t have too since Viktor snatched it from the tabletop. 

Luckily, outside had calmed down somewhat so they didn’t have to worry about prying eyes as they walked arm and arm out of the restaurant. The wind had stilled leaving the snowflakes to float softly down to the ground. They melted upon impact on Yuuri’s woolly coat as they stood outside of the grand hotel. Viktor’s phone had gone off a few times, and he insisted he had to take the call since it was from his lawyer.

Yuuri pondered on surprising Viktor with his gift tonight, but after seeing him hang up the phone angrily he decided to save it for Viktor’s actual birthday the following day. Viktor seemed exhausted and something within him switched. He wasn’t bubbly anymore, he was stiff and flinched away from Yuuri’s touch when he went to grasp his hand in bed. 

Viktor was an avid reader. He consistently carried a book with him and sometimes Yuuri would catch him still up in the middle away at night pawing away at the pages. Tonight, was one of those nights when Yuuri turned over in his slumber to catch Viktor still sifting through the pages in his complex novel. It was probably the fifth different book he’s seen the Russian go through in the past week. 

Yuuri turned over in his position and just observed Viktor as he read attentively. There was a small crinkle in between both his eyes, and his glasses had slid all the way down to the tip of his nose. He still hadn’t shaved yet, and Yuuri was shocked to see he had let it go for so long. It seemed like it grew even over the course of the day, and one of Viktor’s free hands was currently scratching at the coarse hairs splattered across his prominent cheeks. He was so focused on his book he didn’t feel Yuuri stir to sit up next to him. 

“What’s the book about?” Yuuri murmured. The sudden breaking of silence made Viktor jump from his concentration and he blinked furiously at Yuuri. 

“I’m sorry. Is the light bothering you?” 

“No, no. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed I’m a light sleeper yet.” Yuuri laughed as he rested against the Russian. His skin was a bit cool to the touch and clammy. Yuuri ran the flat of his palm down Viktor’s bicep and rested it around the muscle. 

“Are you going to tell me what the book is about?” 

Viktor scrunched up his eyebrows in apparent confusion, and then gasped. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. My brain is a bit scattered.” 

He carefully placed a book marker into the pages and handed the book over to Yuuri. Yuuri didn’t even read the back because he was just staring at Viktor.

“Viktor, I can’t read anything without my glasses or contacts in.” Yuuri snickered at Viktor who just sighed and took the book back. 

“It’s about World War II. It’s through the eyes of an SS officer who had dealings in the Holocaust. Very interesting read in my opinion. I’ve always been fascinated with the war since my grandfather was involved in the Battle of Stalingard.” Viktor explained easily as he set the book on the bedside counter. He delicately placed his glasses on top of the book and sank deeper into the covers. He let one of his hands drift out to caress Yuuri’s pitch black tresses. [3]

“He survived then?” 

“He did. He was a sniper, so he was usually out of plain sight.” Viktor said with a wave of his hand. “However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t see any less. It’s a bit different when you are seeing death down the scope of a gun. I’m sure you understand.” 

Yuuri stiffened at his words. Viktor’s hand caressed a little deeper after he spoke and let his hand come down to ghost across Yuuri’s cheekbone. The touch was so light that Yuuri almost didn’t feel it.

“I apologize if that was something you’d rather not bring up.” 

Yuuri sighed raggedly and blinked a few times before resting his own hand over Viktor’s more massive one.

“No, I don’t mind speaking about it. It’s just off putting sometimes.” 

“Yuuri, I was born into violence. It molded me, and it does not make me skittish. If you ever need to . . . talk about it. I’m open to it.” Viktor replied. 

“Tell me more about your grandfather.” Yuuri whispered as he nuzzled into Viktor’s side. Viktor chuckled quietly as he put his hands back into the Japanese’s mans mussed up hair. He massaged his scalp thoroughly as he hummed to himself in thought. 

“He was my mother’s father. My father apparently was furious when she decided to name me after him.” Viktor ceased talking to sort of laugh at his words. Yuuri joined in with a small snicker.

“Why was your father mad?”

“Well, Deda came back from the war and worked as a police officer. So, naturally, my father’s family detested law enforcement. My grandfather didn’t have my father until the early sixties. Apparently his first wife had died, so he didn’t remarry until the late fifties. My parent’s marriage was arranged between my father and mother. It was sort of a way to keep the two hand in hand. The Bravta could keep doing their dealings, and the police would be out of their hair.” **[4]**

“Arranged marriage. How awful that sounds.” Yuuri mused lazily. 

“It isn’t always awful.” Viktor retorted immediately defensively. It set a red flag off in Yuuri’s brain at the emotion behind Viktor’s words. The Russian tensed up and went to sit up straighter while moving Yuuri away. Yuuri squirmed in his hold and turned around to place both his hands on the man’s pectorals. 

“What does that mean, Viktor?” 

“It’s nothing, Yuuri. Let’s go to bed.” 

“No, you are not getting out of this one. Tell me.” 

Viktor mumbled something that Yuuri couldn’t quite catch. “What did you say?” 

“I don’t want to speak about it.”

“Why not? You said I could always talk to you, and that also extends to you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I _have_ to.” Viktor responded. 

“I will answer any questions you have if you answer mine.” Yuuri threw out. He figured maybe Viktor would take the offer of tit for tat. Viktor had many complex layers beneath him and each one was harder to crack than the last. Yuuri still was unraveling each as he went, but he really did feel like he wasn’t offering just as much. He was so used to catering to others that he never thought someone would want to hear about him. 

“It can’t be about this. It’s not the right time.” 

Yuuri let out a frustrated sigh but figured he shouldn’t push Viktor anymore. He deserved the same respect he did when it came to certain aspects of his life. He just tucked the valuable information into the back of his brain to bring up at a better time. 

“How did you get into fighting then?” Yuuri responded meekly as he retreated into Viktor’s embrace. It was more rigid this time, but he could still feel the pads of Viktor’s fingers dancing across his exposed skin. 

“It’s a stress reliever. I used to get these horrific spouts of anger in my teens so Uncle Yakov started exposing me to different fighting techniques. I became exceedingly good in my early twenties and decided to just go for it. I got an extra push from another person to chase after what I really wanted instead of pursuing crime.” 

Yuuri made a noise of understanding as Viktor continued. 

“Given I couldn’t escape crime since I inherited the head of the family when my father and mother were killed. Yakov handled most of the business until I was old enough to understand my role.” 

Viktor heaved to himself and Yuuri could sense he was clamming up. He must have been done sharing because he wasn’t even looking at Yuuri, but just far off in the distance. There was something behind his hooded eyes as he watched the dazzling lights of the city dance to and fro. Viktor made an odd noise again—almost like a whine but caught Yuuri’s gaze. Yuuri caught the switch within his demeanor and was elated to see Viktor chasing away whatever horrid emotions by distracting himself with Yuuri. 

“Now I get to ask a question?” Viktor teased as he ghosted his deft hands down Yuuri’s sides. It tickled him slightly, so he snorted at the action and batted Viktor’s hands away. 

“Yes, you may.” Yuuri responded while sticking out his tongue playfully to Viktor to break some of the tension. He had no idea which way Viktor was going to go with his question. He put a finger up to his lips in thought and leaned forward to press his forehead against the Japanese man’s. The touch was calming as they sat for a moment taking each other in. 

“What of your past lovers?”

“Huh? Why would you want to know about that?” Yuuri countered while pulling away. Viktor simply laughed and curled into the man’s side. 

“You’re not going to make fun of me Mister Casanova?” 

“I would never, Yuuri. Your comment wounds me. I’m hardly the playboy you believe I am.” 

Yuuri brushed off his candid comment and sat up in bed to properly count on his fingers. 

“There were about ten or so men that I messed around with in my travels. There was another from England that I stayed with for awhile during some down time. However, that just leaves you.” 

“I didn’t mean the number, Yuuri.” 

“The question wasn’t very direct.” 

“So, this man from England. He was your only serious lover?” Viktor asked as his hands traveled past Yuuri’s abdomen. His hands stopped right before the top of his thighs and his fingertips gently kneaded the muscles.

“Yes,”

“Was he better than say . . . me?” Viktor said as his voice grew huskier. He swung his leg over Yuuri’s body to straddle the younger man. It was vastly different than what Yuuri was used to. Viktor grinned wolfishly at him from above and leaned forward. “Well, I’m waiting for an answer, Yuuri.”

“We have a winner.” Yuuri replied before grasping at the wispy hairs at the back of the Russian’s neck and jerking him down for a fond kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The restaurant the visit is modeled after the place called Limani in NYC.  
> [2] The bottle of wine that Viktor orders is the Marcassin Pinot Noir, Sonoma Coast. It is priced at $315 USD a bottle.   
> [3] The book that Viktor is reading is called The Kindly Ones by Jonathan Littell. It's a very controversial novel about a former SS officer and his dealings in the Holocaust.   
> [4] Deda is a shortened term for grandfather.


	11. Act XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got another one out pretty quick since I know how busy I'll be these coming weeks! Also, I've been working harder to get more words out on paper rather than just tell a story bland. I hope the fluff doesn't get too boring at some points! I'm glad you are all enjoying so far and I appreciate every comment and kudos! :D
> 
> Also I self beta so any mistakes in grammar and what not I apologize for. D:

Yuuri was a bit alarmed the following morning when he woke up to an empty mattress. The sheets were crumpled on Viktor’s side and his familiar scent still lingered on his pillow. Yuuri shifted over to run his hand down the silky cloth to search for a note or something of the sort. Yuuri was a bit disappointed he wouldn’t be able to wish the man Happy Birthday until he would see Viktor later. It would have been kind of him to leave some sort of indication of where he was. 

The Japanese man sat up and rubbed his eyes to rid the sleep from them, groaning at the pleasurable feeling. He examined the room with blurry vision. A sudden knock made Yuuri flinch at the sound, and the following opening of his hotel room door made him slip down to the floor. He desperately searched for his weapon under the bed and let his fingers snatch it up once he detected the cool metal at his fingertips.

He darted from behind the King bed out and directed his weapon straight at the intruder ready to fire. Another gun was held in his direction, but Yuuri lowered his weapon at the sight of the intruder with a audible sigh.

“Quite jumpy, aren’t you, pig?” Plisetsky chuckled as he lowered his weapon as well. The young Russian had his hair tied up out his face and was wearing track clothing. The bag he had slung over his shoulder dropped to the floor and the man lazily rested against the wall. “Get ready. Viktor is waiting for you at the gym.”

“Gym?”

“Just because Viktor is on his off season doesn’t mean he stops training. He wanted you swing by.” 

“Alright, just let me get dressed.”

“Dress in work out clothes. Here.” He stated while tossing the discarded duffle bag. Yuuri snatched it easily and tucked it under his arm as he went into the private restroom. A pair of white spandex shorts were in there along with a grey pair of joggers. The shorts were definitely like a pair that he had seen Viktor wear. He promptly threw all the clothing on without much thought and left the bathroom to retrieve his leather coat. 

Once they exited the hotel, he was shoved into the passenger side of a luxury vehicle with Plisetsky taking the wheel. He tuned some music on, and for once it wasn’t any of the heavy metal he liked so much. Luckily, the gym wasn’t very far, but the traffic added a few extra minutes to their arrival time. They sat in uncomfortable silence as Plisetsky wrung his hands around the wheel.

“When did you get here?” 

Plisetsky glanced over to the Japanese man and grumbled to himself. “Otabek and I arrived this morning. We had business in Russia we had to tend to before coming to New York.” 

“So, you do most of the work back home I’m guessing?” 

“Viktor hasn’t done much since—Yeah, I do.” Plisetsky responded. Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at the younger man, and Plisetsky avoided direct eye contact with him. He mentioned something about the traffic once again, and kept his eyes on the road and mouth shut. 

The local gym wasn’t packed, it was solely Viktor in the center with his legs around a sparring bag. He was hanging onto it with just the power of his thighs and doing crunches. Every so often he would grunt loudly and Yakov was right there next to his face screaming in Russian. Every distinct movement tightened every muscle in the Russian’s body, and Yuuri had a hard time looking elsewhere from the grand spectacle. It was hard to hear the pair with music blasting over the loud speakers. 

Viktor glanced past his coach to see Yuuri making his way over to him. He dropped from the bag immediately to the plush mat and eagerly snatched the towel from around Yakov’s neck to wipe his face. He strutted over to Yuuri and punched his shoulder softly with a sloppy grin. 

“Miss me?” 

“Actually, it was nice to have the bed all to myself.” 

“Yuuri, how you wound me.” Viktor said with a hand over his heart and a fake frown plastered on his face. 

Dramatic as always, Yuuri thought to himself. Yuuri caught Plisetsky gearing up in the corner. He was a lot more efficient with how he got prepared. He would even bind his hands faster than Viktor did. It seemed almost like a race as they chatted amongst themselves. Yuuri wondered if it was just Plisetsky or maybe it was since Viktor was such an older fighter.

“Yura, I’m going to be sparring with Yuuri today. Meet up with Otabek or something.” Viktor said as he hauled the Japanese man away.

“Wait, Viktor. I don’t have any gloves—or really know how to fight someone like you. You kicked my ass the last time we fought.” Yuuri said with a shake in his voice as he was directed to a ring. Viktor easily passed him a pair of gloves and hand wraps. He took the man’s hands in his own and began wrapping them with care. 

“You are scared the Oyabun is going to harm you. A gun and I cannot be with you all the time. You may be skilled in weapons, but you carry one of the best weapons at your disposal. Your hands. Let me show you how to do some basic moves, and I will feel better about myself.”

Yuuri watched attentively as he tightened the hand wraps harshly with a pull, and then began slipping the boxing gloves onto his hand. 

“First off. I want to go a full minute with you just trying to land hits on my face. I won’t attack you. I just want to see how hard you hit and how many you can land, Да?” Viktor explained as he placed Yuuri on one side of the octagon and he backed up to his own corner. 

Viktor held his brawny fists up in front of his face and Yuuri could detect the hint of a smile behind the weapons. Yuuri could hear his heart beating heavily in his chest. The sweat was already pooling at his temples, and he blinked a few times to rid the panic away. He was so used to being very far away from his target. Hiding behind the steel that would keep him safe. He never was the man to square up in a fight, that was what some of the other Yakuza were for. He was there to expertly put a bullet in someone’s brain and be on about his day. He also didn’t want to cause harm to Viktor, but it seemed Viktor wanted this to happen for a reason. 

“Ready, darling?” 

“Not really.” Yuuri responded with a laugh before Viktor let out a booming ‘go’. 

Yuuri immediately set off from his right foot to come right at Viktor. The Russian took an easy step back and let his hands come up to protect his face. Yuuri started with a gut punch, and he heard Viktor let out a little ‘oof’ at the punch. With him distracted Yuuri let his right hook come out to try and smash Viktor in the face, but he evaded it. 

“Come on, Yuuri! Give it all you got!” Viktor yelled out with the veins rising to his skin. He was breathing harshly and moving out of each of Yuuri’s attacks. Yuuri huffed out a breath and went back into it with more passion behind each step. He was swinging as best as he could and felt a few hits land on Viktor’s thick body. He saw a bit of redness forming around the area where he had hit Viktor last. It was in the same spot that his eyebrow was glued shut. It had been a week since the cut had happened, and it was healing fast. Not at this rate, though, if he reopened the wound with a jab. 

Viktor started crowding his space a bit, making it hard for Yuuri to use his maximum strength in his punches. Yuuri dodged his advance and spun on his toes to land an unsuspecting punch into the bottom of Viktor’s jaw. Viktor’s eyes blew out at the hit, and he stepped back to clap once to signal the exercise was over. 

Yuuri hunched over with his gloved hands on his thighs. He wanted to fall to the ground in exhaustion. He never had felt such a grueling minute pass by. Viktor sucked through his teeth and winded an arm around Yuuri’s muscled shoulders.

“You did well when I crowded you. Evading and staying on your toes is your best quality. Add more power to your punches when you have space from your opponent.” 

Yuuri nodded while still breathing heavily. “You should be a coach, you know.” 

Viktor titled his head back and let out a throaty laugh. “I’d be the worst coach ever. I’d be too harsh.”

“Too harsh? Never!” 

“You want to go head to head?” Viktor questioned with excitement dancing across his eyes.

“Viktor, I am exhausted just from one minute of what you do. You should really just fight Plisetsky.” Yuuri suggested as he pointed to the young fighter warming up with Yakov in the back corner. 

Viktor nodded slowly and glanced over to the other Russian as well. “Just promise me; you’ll watch then. Take some notes?” 

Yuuri looked back to Viktor and noticed he was nervously toying with the ends of his wraps. He was just staring intently into the floor. Yuuri gently rested his hand the fighter’s wrist and squeezed it softly. 

“Of course, I will.” 

After another hour of observing he did learn a lot. Viktor’s technique was heavy in striking. It was primarily what he was using against the younger Russian, but it clashed against the takedowns that Plisetsky kept performing. Every time Plisetsky would perform a throw on him Yuuri would hold his breath in worry. The constant smack of Viktor hitting the pads seemed to fire him up more, and he would land harder tags on Plisetsky who couldn’t handle the punches sometimes. 

They were completely different weight classes, but they seemed to have a choreographed way of fighting each other. Taking each other’s weaknesses and using it against them. Viktor was a bulkier man, so Plisetsky tended to use his weight against him. Same with Viktor instantly knocking Plisetsky on his ass just with a powerful jab. 

Both the talented fighters had retreated to the showers already, and Yuuri was ready to surprise Viktor for once. While the fight was going on, he stole a few moments to look up some activities for them to do tonight. He wanted to surprised Viktor for his birthday. He figured since Viktor was ignoring his birthday so much he probably never had a proper birthday. Yuuri couldn’t do much, but he hoped his decision was just enough to make the Russian smile. 

They arrived back to the hotel within a half hour, and Viktor was messing around on his laptop murmuring to himself. He was reading over some documents that his lawyer had sent him since he wanted to be prepared for his court date in two days. Yuuri shuffled over to Viktor and rested his arms across the Russian’s shoulders. 

“Are you nervous?” Yuuri asked.

“Hmm? Oh, no, not at all. My lawyer is very good, and he’s sure this guy will concede.” Viktor mused as he swiveled around in his chair to wrap his arms around the slender man’s waist. 

“Do you have time to go somewhere with me today?” Yuuri said softly as he carded his hand through Viktor’s hair. It was incredibly silky to touch, and Yuuri didn’t even want to think what kind of bathing routine Viktor went through. The man always looked immaculate. He knew Viktor had a habit of taking a long time to get ready since he required time to properly apply his designer products. 

“I’m always available for you. You planned something?” 

“It is your birthday. So, I figured we could do something lowkey.” 

“What’s the attire?” Viktor said as he stood and escaped Yuuri’s embrace. 

“Casual. We aren’t attending a runway show.” Yuuri shook with laughter at his joke as he followed Viktor to their shared closet. 

Yuuri let Viktor dress him in just a cashmere sweater and jeans with his new coat placed over it. However, there was no casual when it came to Viktor. He was matching the same navy as Yuuri’s cashmere with his dress shirt that hugged every muscle he slaved over to perfect. His brown belt matched his polished shoes naturally. Yuuri recalled when he didn’t match his shoes to his belt, and Viktor threw a fit. Being with Viktor did teach him a thing or two about modern fashion. Yuuri always thought he dressed just fine, but Viktor came crashing into his life with color palettes and the entire rulebook from Armani. 

“I’ll have the car take us. Just give him the address since you’re so keen on making this a surprise.” Viktor mentioned as they headed down to the valet. They were soon off to Yuuri’s destination, and he was buzzing with evident excitement. He hoped Viktor wouldn’t find it boring but would thrive off the atmosphere. 

They had to take a rather long car ride around Central Park to arrive at the place. Luckily on Christmas Day the traffic had lulled with families retreating to holiday dinners. Snow trickled down and raced down the windows of the vehicle leaving moist trails. Viktor was also savouring the scenery as they drove around with wide, doe-like eyes. He really would have been fit to live in such a bustling city like New York. Yuuri could picture him owning a modest bookstore on the corner and hiding away to devouring the pages of a war biography. 

They were dropped off right in front of the place he had chosen. Yuuri smiled up at the regal building and helped Viktor out of the vehicle by his hand. Viktor hugged his coat tighter to his body to fight off the chill as the car drove away to park down the street.

Viktor took a second to observe his surroundings and swung his head over to Yuuri with a giant smirk. **[1]**

“The Historical Society?” 

“They have a traveling World War II exhibit this month. I thought we could check it out.” Yuuri said as he led Viktor in by his arm. 

Yuuri never was much for school, but he was amazed by how much he learned while walking the halls with Viktor. The Russian was scrambling around sucking information down from each exhibit and reading feverously at each little plaque they passed. He would rush Yuuri over to some object or another and explain it with such genuine passion that Yuuri almost forgot for a second that he was with a man like Viktor. It also left a hole in Yuuri’s heart about how much Viktor was missing out on around the world while running a crime organization. A crime organization that he definitely didn’t want, Yuuri was realizing this little by little as he chipped away at every small layer.

They only spent an hour at the historical museum since it wasn’t that big of an exhibit. Viktor gushed over the artifacts they had like helmets and certain weapons he thought he would never see physically. The sparkle in Viktor’s eyes as he went on and on about certain pieces in the museum was completely worth it to Yuuri. He was glad he could shine a bit of happiness on Viktor’s day with something so small. 

They decided on just ordering room service so that they wouldn’t be in the thralls of Christmas New Yorkers devouring expensive foods and emptying their pockets. 

He thought Viktor was elated by the museum, but the tender kiss he received when he slipped the wrist watch on him was even better. 

~

“This is the matter of Marcus Miller versus Viktor Nikiforov. Please be seated. How do you plead Mr. Nikiforov?” 

Yuuri sat far back in the executive chambers barely looking up. Courts made him nervous especially with what he did for a living. He knew what Viktor’s answer was going to be as he kept standing proudly before the presiding judge. Viktor was about to speak however he was interrupted by the prosecutor on the other side of the room. 

“Permission to approach?” The man said. The defendant Marcus glared up at his lawyer and immediately clicked his teeth while looking down. 

“You may, sir.” 

The man simply delivered a piece of paper to the judge who unfolded it and took a minute to look it over. The judge seemed visibly annoyed but tossed the piece of paper to the side. He snatched his gavel up from the table top and looked out to the crowd.

“Mr. Miller has seen fit to drop the charges and not pursue any further. Mr. Nikiforov, you are dropped of all charges and are hereby dismissed.” The judge announced, and then slammed his gavel down rather viciously. He stood to exit before anybody else made a move. 

Viktor promptly went to his lawyer and started candidly discussing something in fast paced Russian. They were arguing so intently that the pair didn’t notice Yuuri move up to them. 

“Viktor, what’s going on?” 

Viktor whipped around with his hands in the air. 

“Someone paid him off. It wasn’t us, though. That’s what concerns me.” Viktor seethed as he pointed towards his lawyer.

“You couldn’t have resolved this out of court faster before this happened? Now, someone we have no connections with paid this man off somehow. I want to know who and why!” Viktor growled as he stuck his finger in the man’s chest. 

Viktor turned swiftly on his heels and headed out of the court room with Yuuri in tow. It was quite lively for a Thursday afternoon, so he practically lost Viktor in the crowd. He knew how heated Viktor was, so he didn’t want to test the Russian’s considerable anger more. He finally caught up to him at the front doors and slipped past the just closing doors. 

“Viktor! Wait a second! We still have to wait for Yakov and the other two.” Yuuri called out as he hurried down the steps after Viktor. 

The Russian turned around with a lifted hand and was about to say something. However, it was droned out by the ping of a bullet ringing out in the distance. 

Soon, followed by another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] So the place they visit is the New York Historical Society. I know they aren't open on Christmas, but I decided to say fuck that and make it open on Christmas. They have traveling exhibits and with the power of imagination I made it so that conveniently there was a WWII one at the time. 
> 
> This isn't a story comment, but the technique that Viktor uses for Yuuri to come at him with punches is something I use with the people I train with boxing. It's been a bit difficult to transfer that part of my life to paper since it's such a physical sport. I hope you aren't bored with boxer/UFC Viktor. 
> 
> Also the song I had on repeat while writing this chapter was Trust by Boy Epic. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr for the time being at https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com
> 
> However with all the Tumblr bans and what not I will probably move over to Pillowfort or another outlet as well. 
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments and kudos! See you next chapter!


	12. Act XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three updates in one week? Who am I?
> 
> Plot plot plot plotttttt time. We had our fun with domestic stuff, but now I had to delve back into the plot. I hope you all enjoy how the story is unraveling and thank you to everyone for you comments and kudos as always! :D

_“In other news today, a shooting broke out at the New York City Civil Court House this morning. UFC Champion Viktor Nikiforov was exiting his dismissed trial when he was shot from an unknown shooter from above twice. Panic broke out in front of the building and the shooter fled with the hoards of people._

_Nikiforov was in critical condition when paramedics arrived and had to be resuscitated on scene. Reportedly he is still in surgery, and his coach refuses to comment on the situation._

_Police are still on a manhunt for the person of interest and are asking anybody who has information to come forth or call the number below.”_

Click. 

_“You know, Marie. I think it was a premeditated attack on Mr. Nikiforov. The man came out as homosexual on live television and that doesn’t sit well with some folks in America. It’s too coincidental to—-“_

Click. 

_“If he didn’t expect to be harassed, he shouldn't come to this country— “_

“Hey! You mind turning that off, eh?!” Plisetsky growled at a nurse and motioning towards the blaring television. The shrewd nurse side eyed him and simply powered off that television and went back to her paperwork. 

The waiting room was empty besides Yuuri and Plisetsky. Otabek was posted at the front doors of the surgical wing just in case the attack on Viktor wasn’t finished. He was ordered to by Yakov who was out taking care of the damage the critical media was spinning. Plisetsky was currently tapping his foot crazily against the cracked linoleum and biting at a stray fingernail on his hand. He kept glancing back and forth between the doors with a scowl on his face.

“It’s been hours. Shouldn’t they be finished by now? In Russia, he would have been patched up and— “ 

“Do you ever just shut up?” Yuuri seethed from his seat. Plisetsky gaped at him and leaned forward with a vicious snarl bubbling at the back of his throat. “You’re just going to keep talking? It’s not helping the situation. He’s in surgery until they get both bullets out of his fucking chest. Have some goddamn sympathy.” 

Plisetsky rose from his shabby chair and scoffed while pulling up the hood to his oversized jacket. 

“Viktor’s been begging for death to come knocking on his doorstep for years. Funny that it happens now of all times.”

“What does that mean?” 

“Ask him yourself if he makes it out of this.” 

With that the younger Russian excused himself and wandered elsewhere leaving Yuuri alone. It had taken all his energy to not be in a state of absolute distress. Blood was still caked under his fingernails from where he had maintained pressure on Viktor’s hideous wounds. His breathing was still ragged, and the paramedic on the way had been nice enough to lend him an oxygen mask. It had helped, but staring down at Viktor’s motionless body kept shattering his flimsy wall of sanity. 

He could have sworn he was dead by how limp he was. 

God, he was so frozen to the touch. 

Yuuri concealed his grave face in his hands once again and let out a deep sigh. It really had been hours. It was beginning to gnaw at him. Yuuri has been shot a few times in his profession, but he had never been shot with two high caliber bullets in his chest. Usually, it was a minor scrape here or there, but Viktor should’ve been dead. It was miraculous he came back with the vicious shock of an AED.

He might be dead on that frigid table in the back. He wouldn’t even know until the doctor approaches him with a solemn face and soft words. 

The face that appeared before him wasn’t what his brain expected. Otabek was crouched before him hands softly resting on Yuuri’s wrists. 

“They just brought him out. He’s stable. However, he’s still out, and they wanted to monitor him for a bit. He crashed again while in surgery, so he might be a bit out of it if he wakes up today. They asked who would watch over him and I figured you would want to do the honors.” The dark-haired man patted his hands before rising. 

“He’s in room 433. Doctors just left so you can have a moment to yourself with him.” He passed a keycard over to Yuuri, and then plopped down on a chair next to him. He reclined his head back and within moments he was snoring softly to himself. **[1]**

Yuuri nervously turned the keycard over and over in his hands as he sluggishly dragged himself to the room. Standing before the door he felt the lump rise back up to his throat, and it felt like it was almost suffocating him. He wasn’t certain he was prepared to see Viktor yet. 

And he very much wasn’t once he turned the door knob. 

He was extremely pale. Viktor had porcelain skin that would run on for days, but this wasn’t his skin. This was something horrid. He still reeked off anti-septic and something vaguely metallic. 

Yuuri drifted closer to the body fighting a hint of tears behind his burning eyes. He didn’t even know why they threatened to fall. The screeching of the chairs legs against the floor was louder than he anticipated, and he flinched slightly at the sound. He checked to make sure that didn’t disturb Viktor, but he recalled the man was drugged up to high heaven. He let one of his unsteady hands come out to grasp Viktor’s. 

Yuuri retracted from the touch instantly and clutched his hand to his chest. He was still too cold. There was a used blanket at the foot of the bed the he could barely reach. He flicked it out to lay it comfortably over the Russian. Yuuri didn’t know much about medical things, but he could see that Viktor’s vitals were stable on the obnoxious machines. He had good blood pressure and didn’t have a racing heartbeat. 

Yuuri let his hand go back out to hold Viktor’s and disregarded the frigid feeling this time. The pad of his thumb danced over the back Viktor’s hand as he sat in silence. Yuuri really wasn’t sure what he should be doing while waiting for Viktor to wake up. He never really visited anybody in a hospital. He was usually the one getting visited. He figured he would just scroll on his phone for a bit.

Of course, the news was completely filled with Viktor’s controversial shooting. Apparently, someone captured a photo of the building directly behind him before the shooting. There was a whole conspiracy page on the front of Reddit that Yuuri was sitting through, but he decided to look at the photo for himself. It was a bit grainy, but Yuuri could make out an unknown person. He squeezed his fingers together on the screen to zoom in on the photo. 

His phone clattered to the ground harshly as he gasped. 

“Oh shit,” Yuuri whispered tensely as he grasped violently for his fallen phone. He snatched it back up and zoomed in on the picture once more. 

There was only one person with tattoos like that. 

Minako. 

Yuuri went to his feet. He knew where she would most likely be hiding. Somewhere close. He was next on her list he assumed. He let out a quivering breath as he sat down on the side of Viktor’s bed. He pushed some of the ragged fringe away from his forehead and trailed his hand down to cup his cheek. 

“I’m sure you didn’t see this coming.” Yuuri sighed profoundly. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I should’ve been more careful—I should’ve assumed they would send Minako after me. But that’s not the point right now. The point is I’m sorry for many things, but what I’m about to do is not one of them.” He gave his hand one more squeeze before exiting the room and glancing to his left. 

Otabek stirred from his chair at the dull sound of the door opening and met Yuuri’s gaze. He looked just as wrecked as Yuuri did. The bags under his eyes were so deep that it seemed like he hadn’t slept in ages. He was unshaven and his eyes darted rapidly when he awoke from his cat nap.

“I have something to do. Could you watch over him for me?” Yuuri timidly questioned as he stood before Otabek. 

“Of course,” 

“I owe you one. If he wakes up . . .Tell him, I’ll be back soon.” 

“If he wakes up, he will probably come for you himself.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Yuuri chuckled to himself while patting Otabek on the shoulder and taking off to exit the overcrowded hospital. 

The chill of the brutal wind hit him immediately, so he pulled his coat tighter to himself. He could feel the lump of steel strapped to his lower back as he rounded the corner of the building setting off on a casual walk. It wasn’t long before he felt a familiar gaze on the back of his head. 

He picked up pace as he kept a linear path. He was aggressively pushing past a few New Yorkers, and no one mumbling a word in his path. He decided to make a sharp turn and heard the clicking of heels behind him make haste. 

He entered an alleyway that was a dead end and slinked behind a dumpster while slipping the knife from his front pocket. He waited anxiously until the telltale clicking just passed the garbage to lash out. He grasped the feminine shoulder and rammed it into the opposing brick wall. He pressed the blade of his knife into her throat. She gasped wildly and fought against him. She almost nipped him in the groin, but he used all his weight against her. She went to bite him next, and he took the hardest part of his elbow and rammed it into her cheek. 

“You bastard, Yuuri!” She cried out in rushed Japanese. 

“You don’t deserve to speak.” He hissed as he pressed her into the exposed brick once more. “Why’d you do it? On top of that you did a sloppy job. You didn’t finish what you started.” 

“Sweet, Yuuri. Not finishing the job brought you out of hiding.” She grinned back with blood caking her teeth. 

Minako was an elegant woman with tattoos running aimlessly down her satiny skin. She was consistently light handed with Yuuri. Delicate touches during tattoo appointments, but soft guidance during weapons training. She had her hair pinned out of her face, and he could see the light of playfulness dancing in her eyes. He had never been on the receiving end of Minako’s legitimate wrath. The sight of Minako always had a sent a chill down his spine, but he felt none of that right now. There was a deep seeded emotion he couldn’t quite pin. 

“He sent you here to kill me, didn’t he?” 

“He no longer had his prized pet. He got jealous knowing the Russian had his paws on you.” She smiled wolfishly at him under wispy eyelashes.

“I went with him willingly.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second, Yuuri. You know in the realms he’s called the Collector? He controls all notable families outside of Japan. Rose colored glasses only work for so long.” She merely commented while pressing forward. The edge of the knife caught her tattooed throat and some crimson liquid spilled over onto the slick steel. 

“You’re wrong.” Yuuri replied meekly while swaying his head. He had heard of Viktor collecting ‘people’, hell he had even said it himself out spite. He didn’t quite believe it, but the more Minako spoke to him . . . It wasn’t helping. He tightened his grip on the knife and angled it correctly. He hoped she wouldn’t recognize his slip up and use it against him.

“The rose-colored glasses are slowly coming off, Yuuri.” Minako giggled girlishly. 

“Where are you getting your information?” 

“We’ve had the information for years. Along with other things you probably would like to know about your precious Russian. Did you know he was married? I’m sure he lied about that to you as well.”

 _“Stop.”_

“I’m sure you are also aware on how—”

“I said stop, Minako!” Yuuri growled savagely as he cast her to the ground. She landed in a helpless heap on the ground as Yuuri exhaled rapidly above her. The knife fell to the ground in his grasp, and his hands went up to clutch his hair. 

“The mission wasn’t to kill you, Yuuri. It was to get you back. Come home. Your parents are worried.”

“Do not bring my parents into this. They don’t even know what I do for a living. They still think I’m a lawyer. Hell, they don’t even know Mari is involved with you all as well. They are living peacefully up North and don’t deserve harassment from the likes of you.” He explained as he tried recovering his breath. 

“Harassment? You wound me.” She said as she tried getting up, but Yuuri firmly placed his foot on her frail shoulder and shoved her back down. She hissed at the feeling and flicked a few rouge strands of hair out of her eyes to glare at the man. She tried standing, but a pop rang out in the air. 

“You son of a bitch!” She howled as she clutched her knee. Blood poured from the fresh hole that Yuuri created with his pistol. Smoke was still swirling from the tip as he gazed at Minako. 

His teacher.

His friend . . .

No, she wasn’t his friend anymore. She was the enemy. The Yakuza never treated him like Viktor had. Viktor had treated him like . . . like . . .

Family. 

Family reminded him of home. Safety, clarity. He never felt secure in the confines of the hot spring.

Yuuri kneeled and utilized his superior strength to press her knee into the cracked pavement below. She screeched at the pain and flailed her arms around to try and fend him off. He snatched her face up in his spare hand and held it still.

“Leave us alone. Do not come after us.” 

“That isn’t going to happen. The Oyabun is very persistent on getting you back.” 

“Fuck the Oyabun. Fuck them all.” He responded aggressively and cast her to the ground. 

“You’ll regret this, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri stepped over her body and started to walk away. He turned last second before exiting the alley and pointed down the road. 

“You should really get that looked at. There’s a hospital on every corner.” He murmured before heading back to Viktor. 

It didn’t take long for him to reach the hospital since he was almost jogging back to the building. He gained access within minutes, and he entered Viktor’s room once more to see Otabek loyally sitting at his bedside.

He was whispering gently, and Yuuri didn’t even notice the hazy sky-blue eyes on his disheveled figure. He glanced up to the bed and saw Viktor lazily surveying him. Yuuri immediately rushed to his side not noticing Otabek slipping out of the room. 

“You’re awake. I was only gone for an hour or two.” Yuuri said as he placed his bleeding hand on Viktor’s blanketed thigh. The Russian weakly smiled and swallowed with some difficulty before sitting up slightly.

“No! Stay still.”

“Yuuri,” He said hoarsely. “I’m just sitting up. It’s all right.” 

Viktor extended one of his hands up to his hospital gown to jerk it back and reveal his ghastly wounds. He grimaced at the sight and let the fabric fall back in place. He sighed and glanced back over to Yuuri. 

“I don’t remember much after being shot. Drugs are a hell of a thing. How long has it been?” 

“About a day. You were in surgery for nine hours.” Yuuri explained as he caressed Viktor’s thigh gently. 

“Jesus. Did Yakov find out who it was?” Viktor questioned anxiously while running a hand down his gaunt face. 

Yuuri retracted his hand from Viktor’s thigh and played with the ties of his jacket. He stuttered a few times before Viktor’s shaky hand reached out to grasp Yuuri’s.

“You found him, didn’t you?” 

“Her, you mean.”

“What?”

“Viktor, it was Minako. I should’ve known they were going to come after me. I should’ve protected.—”

“Yuuri. Stop. It wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me?” Viktor frantically clutched his hand harder. Yuuri was a bit surprised the strength the wounded man had mustered. Viktor examined his eyes with a small smile. “You or Minako were not the first but probably won’t be the last to try and kill me.” 

“But you’ve never been hurt like this. I had to sit there while they shocked you. You crashed in surgery!” 

“I’m surprised I wasn’t killed long ago.” Viktor commented grimly with a sigh. He supported his head against the wall behind him as he stared off into the room. He shook his head before glancing back over at Yuuri. 

“Viktor . . . I talked to her. I let her go, though.” Yuuri said with tears brimming over in his eyes. He was trying to hold it together, but all the uncontrollable emotions were threatening to spill over. He was shaking in his seated position, and he could hear the wheezing of his breath every time he inhaled. 

Viktor’s eyes widened as he leaned forward with a wince. He grasped Yuuri’s shoulders with his feeble hands clung to him stiffly. 

“Yuuri, it’s not your fault.”

“You wouldn’t have been—”

“Yuuri, be quiet!” He yelled out. 

Yuuri stopped and glanced up to Viktor with tears running down his face. His ragged breathing was the only sound in the room as both men gazed at each other. 

“I should’ve been dead a long time ago. Hell, I’ve been dead for a while.” His sentence tapered off at the end and he sniffled to himself. 

Yuuri thought now was the time. It was either sink or swim with Viktor. 

“My parents don’t know about our life. I’ve seen them twice over the years. They think I’m a lawyer. You know I haven’t taken a dip in the hot springs when they’ve visited? I couldn’t fathom their reactions if they saw my tattoos. I send them money once in a while, but they profit from the hot springs that my sister runs now. God, they would detest what we turned into.” Yuuri vomited all the words in a hushed tone as his hoarse voice quivered.“God, Viktor. We were so poor . . . I couldn’t---”

“Yuuri,”

“Minako helped us. She took us in. She was my mother’s friend for God’s sake. She tried to kill you.” 

“Yuuri,”

“I tried to kill you, but once I got to know you I just couldn’t. She tried to tell me you you’re called the Collector and that you were married. I don’t want to believe it, but Viktor . . .”

Yuuri shifted his eyes from the ground to stare directly at Viktor. The Russian’s stoic face was critically observing his own. He seemed to be analyzing Yuuri’s raw emotions. 

“I have to know. I can’t sit here and pretend like everything is fine. I can’t go to these lavish dinners and see you hide behind a mask no longer. I’m tired, Viktor. I’m so tired.” 

Viktor stayed silent as Yuuri impulsively threw his careless hands in the air. 

“What is this?!” Yuuri cried out as he made a motion between both of them. “Are you going to say anything? No, I know you’re just going to brush it off like you do with anything about your life. I get it. You’re the big, bad Mafia boss, but you cannot do this to people who care about you!” 

Viktor’s pupils blew out at his sentence and he snagged Yuuri’s outstretched wrist. He yanked the Japanese man to him and had him sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. 

“Let me go, Viktor.”

He didn’t so Yuuri struggled against the man. However, even with Viktor gravely injured he was however stronger than Yuuri. 

“Viktor, I said—”

“No,” He growled ferociously. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a whimper that was so soft the Yuuri practically didn’t hear it. “I didn’t want this. I just wanted to be happy. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Viktor, what are you on?” 

“You were the first thing in years, Yuuri, years—to make me happy. After Mama and . . . Kat—ya.” Viktor’s voice threatened to crack as words spilled out. Yuuri shuffled up next to Viktor and winded his sore arm around his shoulders. 

Yuuri stilled his own crying, and hugged Viktor’s broken body to himself. The erratic movements Viktor made as he tried to hold back his emotions panged Yuuri’s heart. He wasn’t one for holding the entirety of his emotions in but Viktor was threatening to implode. He could physically see that. 

“Viktor, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” 

“No, I deserve it. I’ve done this my entire life and now I’ve done it to you as well. I just wish I would’ve told her – No, I –“

A strangled sob broke from Viktor’s throat, and he turned to tuck his head into the side of Yuuri’s chest. The Japanese man carded his hands through the man’s hair gently to soothe him. The sound of this condemned man crying was almost enough to break Yuuri and hurl him into his own fit. He needed to be the strong one right now . . . Viktor was always so solid for Yuuri. He needed to do this for Viktor for once in his miserable life. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Viktor blinked the tears away at his sunken eyes and swiped at them with raw hands. He erratically exhaled and embraced Yuuri tighter to him. 

“When we get to back Russia, I promise you, I’ll explain it all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, we got some angst up in here. I also did not tag F/M along with Victor Nikiforov/OC due to it being sort of a mystery and didn't want to ruin it early on. More will be revealed later. >:)
> 
> [1] 433 was Al Capones cell number at Alcatraz. 
> 
> So, I usually listen to music when writing. I figured I'd share some playlists (?) with you. More so songs I relate to the characters. There are dozens but I'd figured you all would enjoy the top 3 - 4 I relate to Viktor and Yuuri in this AU. 
> 
> Yuuri's Songs:  
> Dear Fellow Traveller by Sea Wolf (I relate this one to Yuuri meeting Viktor and how despite how much they hold back from each other they are slowly learning from each other)  
> Rain Clouds by The Arcadian Wild (This one is more about Yuuri's issues with opening up and his past as an assassin. Also it can delve into how he wants to help Viktor open up about his own past)  
> Killer + the Sound by Phoebe Bridgers (Yuuri's bubbling loathing for his job is really shown in this one and how it grows from love to hate. It also show his apprehension to show this side to Viktor because he finds it off putting)
> 
> Viktor's Songs:  
> Are Things Still Burning? by Em Hariss, Dials (This song is solely about Viktor's past. This heavily focuses on the house we have so much mystery behind and his past relationships)  
> Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco (I couldn't help but think of this song of Viktor when in his actual element of being a Pakhan, to me this screams mob boss Viktor to me)  
> Liar by the Arcadian Wild (This is about Viktor's own emotional turmoil and I think it captures the feelings he experiences when trying to hide his life and push down his feelings)  
> Victorious by Panic! at the Disco (Viktor gets an extra song becaue fuck it. I can't help but also get pumped to this song when I'm training. It's your mediocre victory song that I think works with any sports related thing)
> 
> At the end of the story I may do a side by side of Yuuri and Viktor songs for you guys. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading. I will see you all next chapter! :D


	13. Act XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Sorry about the late-ish update. Holidays are busy as usual and I was working a ton, not enough time to write. A bit of a filler chapter before a super special one after this. I hope everyone had a good holiday. Happy Holidays! :D
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! :D

“I can get up on my own.” 

“You’ve been laid up for weeks. I’d feel better if you would just take my hand.” 

“Wasn’t my decision to sit here for weeks, as you say.” 

Yuuri merely rolled his eyes at the man as he stood from the hospital bed. Viktor had batted Yuuri’s hands away from his own once he was standing awkwardly on his own two feet. Yuuri took a seat back down on the plush material as he observed Viktor dress slowly. He winced a bit at some of the actions, but overall, he seemed better. The wounds on the outside had healed, but ever since his outburst after the attack they were once again dancing on egg shells.

Given, Yuuri never brought up the subject again so he could credit that to his own doing. He did not care to see Viktor upset. It was such a rare sight that it made his skin crawl. He replayed the movement of his tears falling and the quiver in his voice for a week. It haunted his brain when he tried sleeping. 

He needed to know how to fix it.

He needed to know what this was all about. What Viktor really was. 

During the critical times when Viktor drifts off, he would conduct his research with the limited resources he had. However, he was unsuccessful. The only information he could come up with was anything from his fighting career and gossip blogs about him. 

He had even questioned Viktor on how he lived such an open life with his criminal dealings. They had just chosen to sit and conversate instead of partaking in any New Year’s Eve traditions. The decided to instead nibble on a few tangerines Plisetsky had snuck in. He mentioned something with an off voice about the best hiding place was to always be in plain sight. 

What terrible advice that was especially since Viktor was now sporting two new holes ingrained in his chest. Yuuri already had all their overnight bags packed from their hotel. He refused to return to it since he needed to watch over Viktor. He didn’t need Minako limping back here to put a bullet directly in both their brains. 

Viktor leaned down to clutch his messenger bag and fiddled inside of it for a few minutes. He brought out a pair of oversized sunglasses and slipped them on his face. 

“Media still out there?” 

“Yeah, Yakov said to just give curt answers and get to our taxi. We have a long flight back to St. Petersburg.” Yuuri deadpanned as he followed Viktor’s sluggish form out of the hospital room. 

A few careless nurses batted their eyes at Viktor as he brushed past them. He wasn’t very kind to them, but Yuuri had heard the murmurs at the station. They were all fighting for his attention as they grew closer. Pushing their exposed chests out obscenely and giggling like school girls. 

Viktor barely gives them a glance, he called the elevator hastily. Viktor was mumbling incoherently to himself as he fiddled with the strap on his good shoulder before making his way out to the front of the overcrowded hospital. 

It was like being on the red carpet again. Flashing lights blinded them as Yuuri also donned sunglasses. He kept up pace with Viktor this time as people shouted furiously at them. 

“Viktor! How was recovery?”

“Will you be returning to the octagon with your injuries?”

“Mr. Nikiforov, care to elaborate who this man with you is?”

“Do you think you were singled out because of your actions at your most recent fight?”

“Viktor!”

“Viktor!”

They had finally made it to the car. Otabek held the door expectantly as Yuuri climbed in clumsily. A particularly handsy reporter decided to invade Viktor’s space by grasping his injured shoulder to turn him. Viktor hissed viciously and instantly grasped the slender man’s wrist. The aggressive reporter yelped as Viktor twisted his wrist and made the man go to his knees. Yuuri wanted to intervene, but he was already in the vehicle being blocked by Viktor’s body. 

“Have some respect. You touch anybody again while interviewing them I’ll make sure you don’t have hands to write your bullshit articles.” 

“How would you know?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Touch anybody again, and you will be hearing from me.” Viktor seethed as he flung the man to the ground and entered the vehicle. The door slammed harshly behind him and he immediately yanked out a bottle of Percocet. 

The orange bottle was always within reach of Viktor as of late. He complained frequently about pain in his chest since the first bullet had grazed his left subclavian area. All that medical jumbo sort of went over Yuuri’s head, but he knew the doctors were extremely serious about keeping Viktor comfortable. 

The Russian dry swallowed a pill with difficulty before slumping down in his seat. He tossed the bottle back into his satchel as the car lurched forward onwards to the airport. 

The entire first flight was uneventful. The medication had made Viktor dose off immediately before take-off and it left Yuuri to his own vices. Their first connection was in Paris, and then they would head directly to St. Petersburg from there. He wasn’t really looking forward to the half day trip. 

Fortunately, Viktor had tons of personal books in his carry on. He had picked a rather long one to keep him occupied until they landed in the morning. Yuuri could never sleep on planes. The jostling of the aircraft and the constant hissing of air always keeping him on edge. He had been on a rather nasty flight one time. 

He had been leaving Japan to fly to the United States for a contract. He could recall the flashing emergency lights and the jerk of the aircraft. It had put him on edge when flying ever since. He actually requested to stay in the United States for a few days after that contract. Sunny California had been nice, and the vacation he needed at the time.

He had to disturb Viktor once they landed in Paris. Wildly, he awakened shaking with confusion as he glanced around. He blinked a few times before nodding knowingly and letting Yuuri lead them to their connecting flight. He was so groggy Yuuri had to use his hand as an anchor to drag him through the thralls of people. 

They weren’t spotted in Paris by any paparazzi, so the walk to their next flight was easy. They made boarding just in time and were up and off to St. Petersburg. Viktor was once again snoring next to him and he was amazed how knocked out he was. Yuuri sighed as he looked languidly through his carry on and smiled when he yanked out a notebook. 

He had to have some drawing pencils somewhere. He could doodle for a bit to pass the time. He took his time and glanced over to Viktor and noticed the position he was in. 

The Russian was resting his hand against his cheek, and the rest of his head was leaning against the side of the plane. The soft grey fringe laid carefully over one eye as he snored quietly to himself. Yuuri picked up his pencil and began sketching a jagged outline of Viktor’s position. 

Yuuri had learned so much from Minako. . . including art. He drew a rather harsh line as he sketched the rigid line of Viktor’s arm. When he thought of her suddenly, rage would fill him. He desperately wanted to kill her that day. He could of killed her that day, but . . . something held him back. A deep-rooted feeling of adoration for his once mentor turned assassin. He would have followed her blindly, but after her actions he couldn’t even bare to hear her voice. He would mostly likely regurgitate at the shrill sound. 

Viktor still had some stubble running along his sunken cheeks, so he did a swift succession of ticks down the already drawn face. He was scribbling so hard he didn’t realize he roused the sleeping man. Viktor was leaning over with hazy eyes and observing Yuuri draw so diligently. 

“You’re very talented.” 

Yuuri flinched at the noise and clutched the book to his chest. 

“I’ve never seen you draw before. Is this a new development?” He questioned softly as he rested back into his chair. Yuuri was about to close the notebook, but Viktor reached out to snatch if from his grasp. The Russian snuck his reading glasses out from his breast pocket and started to thoroughly examine Yuuri’s drawing. He made a few mumbles as he scarcely traced the pencil line of his own jawline. 

“You made me look so elegant.” 

“Well, uh, that’s how you looked when you were sleeping. I’ve always drawn more realistic things. I just haven’t had the time until now to delve back into sketching.” Yuuri explained with a slight stutter to his voice. Viktor chuckled lightly and delivered the book back to Yuuri. 

“Do you have any more sketches?” 

“No, I haven’t really had the time. The rest are back home at Japan or in . . . Minako’s studio.” He mumbled the last part, but Viktor seemed to understand. 

“You wanted to tattoo, yes? When all of this was over?” Viktor mentioned with a careless wave of his hand. 

Yuuri sighed and tucked the book safely back into his carryon. “Not necessarily, but it was always at the back of my mind.”

“You know, Russia has some very nice tattoo parlors. We can probably get you set up with a good artist. I’ll be your guinea pig.” Viktor joked as he elbowed Yuuri in the shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin you.” 

“Can’t ruin what’s already ruined. You’ve seen my scars.” Viktor retorted. 

“Tattoos hurt.” 

Viktor leaned down, and his breath was eager against Yuuri’s clammy skin. One of Viktor’s hands trailed down Yuuri’s thigh and perched itself on his knee. 

“I’m sure it’s a good kind of pain.” He mumbled hotly, and then retracted back to his own seat. Yuuri felt his face heat up as a passing flight attendant glanced between the two but hastily averted her eyes. The place his face had rubbed against his own burned a bit from his stubble. Yuuri reached up to slightly stroke it to calm the aching sting as he glanced over to the Russian.

“How much longer until we land?” Viktor asked anxiously.

“You were out for a long time. We are probably about to land.” Yuuri answered as he settled back into his seat and crossed one nimble leg over the other. 

Luckily, Yuuri was right, and they were screeching onto Russian pavement within the hour. Viktor spoke in fastpaced Russian as he spoke with their chauffer at baggage claim. They seemed to be arguing over something, but finally the stranger threw his hands in the air and pointed at Yuuri.

“You. Come.” 

“Wait, Viktor, where are you going?” 

“I have some business to do before heading home. He will take you to my actual house. Plisetsky and Otabek will be there waiting for you. I will be back tonight.” He explained as he placed both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and gave a intimate squeeze to the muscle.

“Why can’t I go with you?” 

“I have to meet with an old friend. I promise to be back at the house before eleven o’clock.” He stated, and then patted Yuuri’s cheek reassuringly. Yuuri noticed his hands were shaking just the smallest bit. Yuuri growled as the chauffer led Yuuri away from Viktor who was already pulling his phone out of his pants. 

Yuuri watched as Viktor spoke on the telephone with animated movements back and forth as he strutted away. He headed the opposite way in the arrival terminal and vanished with the disorderly crowd. 

“Do you know where he is going?” Yuuri asked in Russian as the car lurched away from the airport. The man just shrugged and didn’t say a word as he merged onto the freeway. The ride was uneventful besides the vast scenery they were passing. 

Yuuri wasn’t used to evergreens. They stood proudly over the harsh landscape protecting the frail creatures below. The snow coated the ground and the road ahead so the driver made sure to drive a bit cautiously. 

The ride from Pulkovo Airport was about over an hour so that gave Yuuri enough time to his thoughts. He was buzzing with nervous energy at the thought of going to Viktor’s real home. The house he tried so desperately to brush off at every chance. He wondered what it would look like especially with him not being there for a period. He seemed to avoid the place like the plague. 

Soon enough they were pulling up to a home somewhat out of the away of Leningrad Oblast. Yuuri spotted a vast body of frigid water and knew it was the Ladoga Lake. He had only seen photos of it but was much grander in person. It was frozen over now and scarcely covered with a thin dusting of shallow snow. He could even spot a few animal tracks imprinted in the snow near the lake. 

The harsh wind whipped around him as he exited the vehicle and pulled his scarf higher up on his face. This was something new—the wind in Hasetsu was never like this when it snowed. 

The driver had already secured his bags, so he was hot on his heels as he trekked to the house. It was a bit too dark outside to see the house perfectly, but inside it was more elaborate than he imagined. 

The lighting in the house was dim but bright enough to navigate throughout the home. Once he entered, he took note of the giant ebony staircase that winding itself to the second floor of the house. It was placed in the center of the foyer and the other sides opened to diverse sections of the house. He could vaguely hear a fireplace crackling in the distance.

To the right of the staircase, he peeked over the wall to see an indoor swimming pool area. The floor to ceiling windows behind it stretched wildly to show off the frozen lake over yonder. The pool was back lit with blue lights that flickered on and off to cause a bit of a shimmer over the water. The room was decorated with plush coaches and even a minibar off to the corner. 

The furniture was all tinted beige as Yuuri moved throughout the home. He let one of his hands come out to brush the material of the chairs as he identified the kitchen. He noticed the kitchen was also the same color scheme with stainless black appliances and grey granite countertops. The driver stepped into the kitchen and motioned with his head to follow him. 

The floors were so clean Yuuri could see his reflection in them as he sauntered across them. He almost tripped as he gazed at his own reflection when he hit the stairs. He was soon deposited in what looked like to be an office. There were black leather couches lining one wall but were pointed at an oak desk with bookcases built into the wall behind him. 

Plisetsky was sitting at the monstrous desk as he flipped through a numerous amount of paperwork. Otabek wasn’t far. He was just stoically staring out at the lake from the oversized window. Plisetsky glanced up from the papers and set them down once Yuuri made his presence known with a nervous cough. 

“Seems like you made it. Where’s Viktor?” 

“Uh, I thought he would have told you. He is in St. Petersburg still for a meeting.” Yuuri explained as he seated himself in one of the plush leather chairs. Plisetsky tossed the papers onto the desk and with a sigh. 

“No, he didn’t. Did he say who he was meeting?” 

“No. He said he would be back by eleven o’clock.”

“That damn bastard.” Plisetsky growled and stood up from the desk. He unrolled the cuffs to his dress shirt as he shook his head. “Otabek get the car ready.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Viktor is being his usual self.” Plisetsky said with a wave of his hand. “He can’t even man up to come home after all these years. I know where he is.” 

“At the apartment?” Yuuri said while standing and taking a few steps towards the younger Russian. 

“God, no. He only takes people there after a night out. He’s probably drinking himself to death out in Georgi’s dive bar. We must get to him as soon as possible. I can’t believe he would do something so stupid after being fucking shot.” Plisetsky explained as he snatched his coat and made his way to the foyer. 

“I want to go with you.” Yuuri stated as he chased after Yuuri. The younger Russian was strapping a pistol to his holster as he turned on the balls of his feet. 

“This might not be pretty, Yuuri. This house . . . This is not a place Viktor wants to come to. It’s going to take some convincing to get him here.” 

“I can do that. Please, let me help.” Yuuri clenched his fists down to his side as he huffed out a breath. Plisetsky seemed to be thinking it over for a second before buttoning his coat with deft hands. 

“Don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.” He murmured as both men shuffled outside to the black sedan. Plisetsky sat in the front passenger seat as Otabek drove aimlessly. Plisetsky turned around and leaned wearily against the center console. 

“Has he told you about the house? What happened here?” 

“He mentioned about not wanting to really be there. I . . . am just confused on all of this.” Yuuri said. He was wringing his scarf in his hands as he observed Plisetsky. A few emotions crossed the young man’s face, but mostly he seemed disappointed. He huffed out a ragged breath and scratched the back of his head before sitting back correctly in his seat. 

“It’s a long ride. I might as well tell you since it seems like he isn’t going to say shit.” 

“He said he planned—”

“Viktor is full of empty promises. Let me fucking tell the story now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter is going to be a bit different. I hope it isn't jarring or difficult to understand. I have a plan I swear. Lol. 
> 
> I also complied the playlists like I said I would and at the end of the story I will post a chapter with the playlists I made for this story. 
> 
> I am still on tumblr so you can find me there. I still can't figure out how to do the damn link thing because I'm ancient so the url is: 
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	14. Act XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the special chapter I promised!
> 
> It is a bit weird to take a POV shift in a story like this, but I couldn't think of any other way to really present this part of the story. With Yuuri as our "narrator" he can sometimes be unreliable, so I finally gave what some of you guys wanted. A Viktor POV chapter. 
> 
> Also there is something special to each excerpt and will be mentioned in the bottom notes. Also there is little easter eggs thrown in from the prior parts of the story that you may notice. :D
> 
> I hope everyone has a Happy New Year and is enjoying the read! Thank you all for the kudos and comments.

_Leningrad Oblast, Russia--2011_

The ticking of the grandfather clock was almost deafening as it flipped back and forth. Tick, tick, tick--at least he didn't spend a lot of time in the study. The constant noise would surely drive him crazy if he spent more time in here. He loathed to even think about himself closed off in such a stuffy place.

"God, I hate that thing." The older Russian commented as he continues to mumble to himself amongst the stacks of papers. He stared at the clock as well before shaking his head to himself. His glasses were perched so low on his nose that they were almost slip-ping off his face. He pushed them up with one of his pudgy fingers, the nails so jagged from constant nibbling. He glanced back up from the desktop and cleared his throat loudly to catch the young man's attention.

"Vitya. Where is she?" 

"Hmm?"

"Stupid boy. Katya. She's almost an hour late."

Viktor scoffs while waving a hand in the air. He leans forward on his elbows with a grin across his face. "I don't monitor her every move especially when we've only met once."

"She's your fiancée. You should get close to her. Speak to her more often. You are on your damn phone so much." 

"I don't think we should use such strong wording for a person I've only met once." Viktor replied with a grimace on his face. His grey eyebrows knit together when he looked away to the window.

"That's why I arranged a more casual meeting for you two. You should get to learn more about your future wife. She's very nice." 

"Yeah, you think so. She threw a drink in my face during the meetup with her father."

"You said, and I quote, this will do--great bone structure and flattering assets. What did you expect, you heathen?" 

"Yakov, I am unsure about this." Viktor said as he goes to stand. He paced for a minute and sighed heavily. Yakov rolled his eyes at the young Pakhan "I don't want to marry her."

"You will marry her. This is what happens in this family. Your mother and father were also betrothed in the same way." Yakov grumbled as he glanced at the clock once again to check the time.

"Yes, because my sweet mother ended up with the greatest man alive. I'm sure she en-joyed getting smacked around every corridor in this house. You think she liked having her toddler---her only son, mind you, observe his father drink himself to death in plain view?" Viktor retorted with hatred lined in his words. He hadn't meant to loom over the oak desk while staring daggers at Yakov. His breath was heavy, and he blinked a few times before stepping away.

"You are not your father. Everyone knows that. You are twenty-three now. You are pakhan and we must reconnect our ties with the authorities since all of your Deda's con-tacts have moved on." 

The door to the office creaked open and a tiny blonde head poked in. The young boy was still nervous around others to this day and barely spoke a word. He shuffled into the room with another figure swaying in. 

Viktor had to admit Yakov's choice in women was superb. As much as he disliked the idea of arranged marriage, Katya was remarkable. He would have chatted her up at a lo-cal bar if he had the chance. There was no way a woman of this caliber would frequent the sleazy places he went to drink his sorrows on occasion. 

Her hair was golden--no, wheat--golden, he noted. Her hair was wavy in style almost as long as his actually. He knew how much pride people had in their hair and he really want-ed to feel how silky her's would be to touch. She had similar eyes to him steel blue and shined just right when the light hit them. She wasn't very tall, however. She probably was only 160 centimeters at best. Viktor immediately rushed to her and turned to offer her a chair.

"Now you want to be a proper gentleman?" She hissed as she brushed past him. A spit-fire. He adored that in the women and men he pursued. 

"Once again, Ms. Federov. I apologize for my nephew's remark. He is an imbecile some-times." Yakov remarked as he stood from the desk. **[1]**

"I concur." Katya giggled to herself as Viktor scoffed at both.

"Now, the house will be empty for the evening. The boys and I will be staying in the city for the night. Show Katya around her new home and a car will be sent for her in the morn-ing." Yakov explained as he pulled his jacket on. 

"Wait, what?" Both responded. Katya stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips. She blew a stray piece of hair from her forehead before speaking. Found the whole spectacle remarkably adorable, he would tell her so. However, he was a bit terrified to get another drink thrown in his face or worse, punched out by the heavenly woman.

"I am not staying with Mr. Nikiforov all night. He is basically a stranger. A daft one at that."

"Hey!” He growled. “But yes, I agree, Yakov. I do not think this is wise." Viktor agreed with the woman as the older Russian ignored them. 

"Have a nice night, children." He said with a final wave of his hand. 

The pair sat in silence for what seemed like hours however the roaring of the retreating car spilled into the room. Neither of them dared to look at each other. Viktor could speak easily to anybody, but he was at loss for words with this woman. No one had ever dared to speak back to him like she did. Nobody ever wanted to challenge the Pakhan, but something about this woman. Something made him want to at least try to have some semblance of a relationship with her. She was going to be his wife, so he would have to adapt to her. 

"Ms. Federov, I have some wine in the kitchen. I could cook us something as well if you are hungry." Viktor mentioned as he pushed off the wall he was leaning on. She finally tore her eyes away from the clock she had been gazing at and crossed her arms over her chest. 

"Trying to get me drunk, huh? I know how you are Mr. Nikiforov. I've heard about you." She replied with distaste. 

"What do you mean by that?"

"Women and men talk at bars about you. Always so flirtatious and smooth with your words and promises. Once you bed them however, you suddenly lose interest in any con-tact." She rolled her eyes as she stood. 

He had enough. He wasn’t about to let his past imagine ruin what future happiness he could have with this woman. He would be damned if he didn’t at least try. 

Viktor reached out to grasp her wrist and she gasped as he yanked her closer to him. His breath washed over her face softly kissing her untarnished skin. She blinked furiously in surprise as he embraced her tighter to his body.

"Not anymore. In my youth, yes, I was a bit of a Romeo, but I've left that part of me in the past. Ms. Federov, I wholly promise I won't fuck this up. I know that you are not pleased about this, as am I. But I can promise you that when I make a promise to you, that I mean it. Not because I am trying to get something from you, but because I do not lie to people who are important to me." Viktor rambled. He noticed that she relaxed in his hold, and she chuckled after his speech. Her hands perched themselves on his pectorals as she leaned back to look up to his face.

"Katya."

"What?"

"Call me, Katya."

. . . 

"Vitya! Put me down right now!" 

"I don't take demands when they are barked at me!" 

The woman shrieked as she was hauled throughout the homemade gym. Viktor laughed gleefully as his gloved hands were anchored under the girl's backside. He swung her here and there as he booked it around the mats. He dropped her carefully to the mat and flung himself to the ground as well. He was exhausted, and he heaved heavily with each breath. 

"I had to do a victory lap." He snickered as he rolled over onto his side and started to dis-card his boxing gloves.

"Psh, you won a match against your wife. How glorious of you." She jested as she leaned forward and hooked her finger around his necklace. The wedding ring and axe encircled on the chain clanked together as she pulled harder on the metal. 

"Don't I get a kiss for my hard work?" 

"Well," She started as she toyed with the damp strands of his hair. Some had escaped his ponytail during their mock fight. "You'll have to catch me first!"

"Devil woman," Viktor spat as he hoisted himself up to his feet to dart after his wife. 

. . .

It was a late night. Probably the latest he had stayed up in a long time. The summer breeze blowing off the lake swished his hair lightly as he took a sip from his tumbler. His favorite place to escape to was the balcony off of their bedroom. Since St. Petersburg was far enough away, the starlight flooded the sky. He could spend hours counting each one up in the black mass, but he wouldn’t want to subject his wife to such torture. He could imagine himself annoying her for the rest of his life by just counting up with each star he spotted. He laughed somewhat out loud at the notion.

The laptop he had been staring at for an hour was starting to look blurry. He squinted his eyes as he leaned forward to gaze over his spreadsheet one last time. 

"You should invest in some reading glasses, old man." A feminine voice rang out from behind him. Katya swayed over to him and the blanket she had draped over herself encircled Viktor's torso once she wrapped her arms around him. The fabric was so gentle around his shoulders, but the weight of her arms comforted him. He noticeably felt his shoulders drop and the muscles loosen when her fingers dug into the flesh. He languidly caressed her forearm under the warmth before tilting his head back to gaze at her. 

"I'm not old."

"Tell that to your hairline, my luchik." **[2]**

Viktor gasped audibly as he pulled her arms towards his front. Katya laughed as he dragged her into his lap. She naturally wound her arms around his neck with her feet draped over the chair arm. 

Viktor adored her laugh. It was wild, chaotic and encompassed everything about his wife. The only thing he wanted to hear the rest of his life was her laugh, and he would die try-ing to keep her smile shining. He told her so, and she called him a cheesy son of a bitch. He couldn't help that he had grown so enamored with his wife in the past year.

"What are you working on?"

"Getting my schedule set around my training hours. I have a few people to meet with this week, but I don't want to neglect my training." He explained while stifling a yawn. 

"Can't you just make Yakov do all that? I know how much you want to lose another few kilos before your first fight." 

"I asked him however he said a good Pakhan wouldn't keep anybody waiting. He said my father used always say that." 

Katya shifted so that she was more comfortable in her husband's embrace. She sighed contently as Viktor ran his nimble fingers through her silken hair. She reached up to brush her hand against his sharp stubble and scratched it playfully. He glanced at her for a moment and smiled at her meekly,

"You don't talk much about your parents. What were they like?" She murmured. 

Viktor moistened his chapped lips as he gulped. He stuttered for a few minutes to try and find the right words. 

"My father was . . . he wasn't a pleasant man. I loathed him. He used to beat on my mother quite a lot. He would get rip roaring drunk and just bounce her off the walls. I was too young to fight back or anything of the sort. Everyone was so petrified of him that they refused to stop him." Viktor explained lightly as he kept caressing his wife's mane. 

"That must have been horrid."

"It was. I adore--adored my mother. She was radiant. No matter what bruise she was sporting that week she would sing while doing laundry. She would joke as she brushed my hair. She was the one to let me grow it out this long. She loved everything and anyone around her including my volatile father." 

Viktor could feel the tears welling up at the mere thought of his late mother. He sniffled as quietly as he could, but Katya sensed his distress. She moved closer into his body and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. He could feel her embrace grow stronger as she tugged his body impossibly close to her own.

"I bet we would have gotten along remarkably. You know that I love to sing show tunes." Katya broke the silence with an easy jest,

It was Viktor's turn to throw back his head and chuckle with her.

. . . 

Some nights it's like a war. Gnashing teeth, bruising grips, and wanton noises echo off the walls. 

Others there is featherlight kisses tracing down endless scape of skin. Sweet nothings whispered too each other afterward and breathless sighs.

But this one time, it's different. It's different for all the right reasons because it's what the future foretells. It's what she wants, he keeps telling himself. Honestly, deep down. It’s what he wanted himself but could never admit out loud.

He's afraid of himself. Afraid of what he could possibly disturb between him and his wife. 

But he can't help, but grin at the thought of another ray of shine in his life. Another person to make laugh with the same soulful cadence like her. 

God, what he would give to have all of that. 

. . .

"Yakov, she's been in there for days. I don't know what to do. I've tried everything." Viktor whispered as they walked down the corridor to his bedroom. 

"You can't force the woman to come out."

"She only permitted the doctor to see her. Other than that, she has basically shunned me. She won't even touch me. I feel helpless. I--don't know what to do. I know you and Lila had something similar happen when you were married. How did you help her?"

"Help her?" Yakov scoffed. "I was grief stricken, boy. Lila was my rock for her miscarriage. Lila is a vastly different woman than your Katya. She will come to you when she's ready. She is quite forward and blunt. Just let her be, Vitya." Yakov ordered as he placed the bags he was carrying down. Viktor sighed and shook his head to himself. 

Yakov retreated down to the first floor of the house as Viktor twisted the handle to his bedroom and hauled some of the bags in. He had purchased some things for his wife. Mostly books that she wanted. Books always cheered her up. He never was an avid reader himself until he married a bookworm. She would gab his ear off about something or another from a novel and he felt like he had no input in the conversation until he started reading alongside her. 

"Katya, I have some books for you." Viktor called out but didn't expect to be almost tack-led in a hug. He didn't get a chance to see her face since she immediately buried it in his chest. He carded his hand through her hair and soothed her the best he could. 

"Hey, you know what was playing on the radio today when I drove home?" Viktor kept rambling to distract himself from the thoughts threatening to cross his brain when he caught sight of the crib once more. The crib he had just built so excitedly over the week-end. The one they would have no use for anymore. 

He heard a small noise from his wife. A muffled remark that he couldn't quite hear. 

"Our wedding song." Viktor said into her ear as he leaned down. He moved his hands to her hips and swayed them softly in their stance. 

_"Et, des que je l'apercois . . . alors je sens en moi."_ He sang off key, but he didn't care. He knew his wife's adoration for the French tune. She had begged him for months to let it be their song. He found it corny, she found it fitting. 

_“Mon coeur qui bat.”_

It was a start. The start to get her giggling and prancing around show tunes once more. He couldn't fathom another day without the brilliance in her song.

. . . 

"Georgi! Stop!" The man's girlfriend cried out as he continued to savagely joke about her snoring to the Nikiforovs. Viktor could tell the woman was visibly angry. She wasn't really enjoying any of his jokes. She had a tint of rose dusting her cheeks as she lifted the wine to her lips and gulped. She slammed the glass down and retreated to the kitchen mum-bling to herself.

"I got this." Katya whispered between the two men and followed the scorned woman to the kitchen.

"Georgi, man, no wonder you can't keep a girlfriend. You can't treat them like that." Viktor chuckled as he gulped the rest of his whiskey down. The cigar in his mouth muffled his speech a bit so he removed the tobacco from his mouth and placed it in the ornate ash-tray in front of him. 

"Hey, this new one came on to me. She said she loves my jokes."

"I highly doubt that, friend." Viktor responded. "Katya and she seem to get along swimmingly. They started shopping together."

"Yeah, with our credit cards." 

"Whatever makes my Katya happy."

"God, you guys are so overly disgusting sometimes. I wonder what you two would ever do without each other." Georgi said as he noticed both women coming back from the kitchen. They were whispering to each other like school girls and clinked their newly filled wine glasses together.

"I could never imagine life without my best friend." Viktor sweetly crooned as he swatted his wife's backside playfully as she moved past him. She plopped down into the spot next to him and raised her glass up in cheers.

"I thought I was your best friend." Georgi grumbled.

"Oh, sweetie. You wish." Katya joked as Georgi clutched his chest in mock heartbreak.

. . . 

"There are different types of love I've come across in my life.

Each and every single one tantalizing, captivating, and warm in their own right.

Love never had a true definition for me. Love was . . .

Love was when Mama slaved over my favorite dinner. Love was when she would let me wear my favorite outfit to school even though the socks didn't match. She was the one who taught me everything I know about clothing even if I wouldn't listen to her. Love was when she would sing wistfully at the blank ceiling of my childhood bedroom to lull me to sleep after a night terror.

What wasn't love when it came to Mama?

She prepared me for the love I thought I'd never experience.

The love I have--had for Katya. The love that was so bright and painstakingly blindingly that I thought it would crush me under its weight. 

My father tried to dim that light like a stain on this family. Father's love was different. It was excruciating, bewildering, and unpredictable. I never saw it as unconditional love when the harsh sting of his belt would mark my skin. His drunk slurs of hatred about my current hairstyle or how I was just like Mama. 

Just like Mama, huh?

You know, what? I am like my mother. I would dote on him like she did. Making dinner every night when I would trek in from class. I would clean his drunk ass off up the floor and bite my tongue every time he would spew venomous things about Mama. 

I held my wife like she would--a tender embrace that would soothe any person. I loved my wife like how my mother taught me because that is what a man should do when he is in love. Not what my father did, that wasn't love.

I am fortunate to know that Katya got to have everything from me. She was the one who taught me to be myself--love myself, despite the environment that tried to mold me into a carbon copy of my father.

But when someone murders your wife . . . in your own fucking bed . . . while you are asleep . . . that changes a man. 

I don't give a fuck why you did it. I just want you to know, that you took the only fucking thing that I cared about in this world. 

Mama was taken. I thought that was going to break me, but it didn’t. 

Thank god, my retched father drank himself to death.

But Katya, did not deserve this. 

So, this is for her."

He stopped hearing the shots after the first one. The girl, he couldn't even remember her name (he didn't care to remember her name.), that Georgi brought into his home. His ha-ven was responsible for this. He hoped every bullet that he put in her useless body seared pain through her like the poison his wife consumed did. 

He heard the woman below him plead one last time. He laughed maniacally as he kicked one of her legs out of his way. His hand went up to brush the fringe out of his eyes. He reached behind him to push his ponytail out of to the way, but oh, he had forgotten he lopped off all his hair before the funeral. His brain was quite frazzled these days. 

"You didn't just kill Katya that day. You crushed what was left inside of me. Nothing is left. I hope the money was worth it before I found you."

One last singular pull of his trigger did the deed. He prided himself on never using guns, but damn, nothing had been this satisfying in the longest. 

"Bring in the other conspirators!" Viktor roared with a grin cracking his composed demeanor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Federov is a Russian last name. The meaning of the name is Gift of God.   
> [2] This is a nickname for sunray.
> 
> So, the fun thing I did with this chapter was I complied each of the 7 types of love in Greek terms. The order for each excerpt is as follows. I hope you guys enjoyed the bit we got to see of the OC I created for this story. I know its a bit taboo in the YOI fandom sometimes for a female character with Viktor, but this was more so surrounding the unfortunate happenings to the women in his life. I did not tag OC character in relationships due to the mystery behind in the beginning chapters. Thank you all once again for your continuous support. I appreciate you all. :D
> 
> Pragma  
> Ludus  
> Agape  
> Eros  
> Storage  
> Philia  
> Philautia


	15. Act XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get to edit this as fully as I wanted so please excuse any grammatical errors. I will go back soon and fix them. Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Edited and updated 01/13/2019

Yuuri was still feeling blindsided by all the sensitive information he had taken in on the ride over. Plisetsky had talked his ear off right up until they parked the car in front of the seedy bar. It was half boarded up and the battered door blew wildly in the wind. Snow was still falling carelessly, and Yuuri could feel his dishevelled hair growing damp by the second. It was eerily silent besides the muffled roars of men within the bar.

Plisetsky was about to reach for the rusted door handle when the door flew open. Clattering against the brick wall and splintering down the middle. Yuuri stepped back with the younger Russian as a body thumped to the ground.

“Get out of my bar, Viktor. I’m not telling you again!” A gruff voice growled as another man stepped through the threshold of the door. One of his hands was clutching his head, and Yuuri could see blood dripping through his fingers. The man looked down to his own hand and savagely wiped his hand against his frayed shirt. The blood clashed against his white shirt as the stain set in.

The man on the ground groaned dismally and picked himself up on the miserable second try. His shoes slipped all around the cracked pavement as he fought to stand. He swayed back and forth and reached up to pull the cigarette out of his mouth. He exhaled the noxious smoke with a grin on his face.

If it wasn’t for that telltale hair, Yuuri wouldn't be able to tell who it was from behind. Viktor laughed boisterously before flicking the embers directly at the bar owner. Yuuri went to move towards Viktor but a hand-held him back. Plisetsky stared him down and just shook his head.

“Let this play out.” Plisetsky murmured as Yuuri was dragged a bit back.

“Georgi, you fucker. Let me back in—wasn’t done with my vodka.” Viktor slurred as he yanked a cigarette pack out. He stumbled back and forth as he tried lighting the stick. He got it after a few tries and inhaled once more while pointing at Georgi. “I own this bar, technically. Now, let me the fuck in, you son of a bitch.”

Viktor advanced quickly for an intoxicated man and grasped Georgi by the throat. The black-haired Russian croaked at the strength behind Viktor’s hand. Georgi squawked as the intense force brutally crushed his windpipe and the bar owner was shoved against the brick building. His feet dangled below him, and he grabbed at Viktor’s hand.

“Are you fuckers going to do anything about this?” A woman yelled from the doorway completely hysteric. “He’s going to kill him!”

Plisetsky merely shrugged and took a few steps forward keeping his distance from the skirmish. Viktor was just staring at Georgi—not making a move. Yuuri caught the glint of a weapon in his waistband as Viktor’s coat rode up.

“It’s all your fault.”

“Fuck off, Vik. You know I had nothing to do with it.” Georgi replied.

With lightning speed Viktor swung the weapon out from behind his back and stuck the barrel into Georgi’s temple. Georgi cried out in shock and started hyperventilating. He desperately tried to claw at Viktor’s hand once more and his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd.

“Yuri! You were there your whole life! You saw everything. You can’t let him just kill me!” Georgi pleaded with the crowd. Plisetsky scoffed with a wave of his hand. Yuuri was still frozen in his spot following his orders. He didn’t want the gun to be turned on him. Viktor hopped up on painkillers and alcohol was most likely not a good mix.

However, he had to try.

“Viktor, let Georgi go.” Yuuri called over all the commotion. He could see the gun move downwards a bit. It wasn’t pointed fully at Georgi now but more so at the wall. The man’s breathing grew ragged as he listened to Yuuri’s voice.

“Let’s go home. You promised you would with me. I’d really like to meet Makkachin. I didn’t get to see him while I was there.” Yuuri said cautiously as he glanced at the woman. He held a hand up to her and gave her a calming nod. He took another few steps with one of his hands reaching out to his back. He gripped the butt of his gun tightly as he moved forward through the snow.

“You know nothing, Yuuri! Back off!” Viktor growled as he came back to reality. He spit out the cigarette from his lips and bared his teeth at Georgi.

“I know more than you think. She wouldn’t have wanted you to do this.”

"Fuck you, Yuuri!” Viktor said as he whipped around to point the weapon at him. Georgi heaved when his throat was released, and he scampered away to the embrace of the nervous woman. He immediately shut the bar door, and Yuuri could hear the locks being fastened.

“Viktor, put the gun down. I just want to talk. You promised you’d talk to me, remember?”

“I don’t want to go to that damn house! I hope it burns to the ground with everything inside of it. No one should have to go to a—a— fucking hellhole like that!” Viktor crazily shouted as he waved the gun around.

“You! Fucking take it all. I don’t want to take care of your shit anymore. I don’t care anymore!” Viktor continued to yell, and he let out maniacal laugh. It was odd to see the man so out of touch with himself. It was honestly scaring Yuuri to the core.

“Listen to the pig, Viktor. You’re acting fucking crazy.” Plisetsky demanded sternly.

“Fucking runt.” Viktor stated and lifted his gun. He was about to pull the trigger when Yuuri tackled Viktor to the ground. The bullet pinged off some metal off in the distance. Plisetsky didn’t even move an inch. He simply sighed and leaned down to the frosted ground to pluck the gun from the ground. He released the magazine and tossed the pieces to Otabek.

“God, you are such an idiot.” Plisetsky said as he turned to head towards the two men wrestling on the ground. Viktor was too inebriated to overpower Yuuri now. The Japanese man had him pinned expertly to the ground. Viktor was spewing slurs at everyone in the area, and he heaved loudly as he tried pushing the smaller man off him.

Plisetsky paid no mind as he drew closer to the men and crouched down to their height. Yuuri held him back as Plisetsky grabbed Viktor’s face to turn it towards his own. Yuuri could see his blown-out eyes and how his face was so moist. Viktor wildly jerked his eyes back and forth between them as he breathed heavily. Plisetsky was merely examining his superior, and Yuuri could see the younger man’s blunt nails digging into Viktor’s skin.

“He’s drugged out on painkillers. I’m surprised the concoction hasn't killed him yet.” Plisetsky stated and tossed Viktor’s head back to the ground.

“Not just painkillers.” Viktor retorted with a blissful expression as he relaxed in Yuuri’s vicious hold.

“What else did you take, Viktor?” Yuuri demanded as he got off his sore knees to stand over the Russian.

"Fucking idiot. Get him and bring him back to the house.”

“No!”

“I wasn’t asking, Viktor.” Plisetsky threw over his shoulder as Otabek closed in to help lift the heavy man. Viktor tried to fight back against both Yuuri and the bodyguard, but he was too weakened at this point. They tossed him into the backseat of the vehicle with Yuuri sliding in next to him.

He promptly passed out once he was on his back, and Yuuri did his best to turn him over onto his left side. He pulled the Russian’s damp feet into his lap and sighed restlessly as the car lurched forward.

“We’ll have to send Georgi something nice. Pay off his stock for next month. I’m sure he will appreciate that.” Plisetsky mumbled to himself as they continued the drive.

They sat in dreadful silence for a few moments, but Yuuri was getting restless about Viktor. He never knew in the short span of time for Viktor to be a heavy user. He seemed like he drank a normal amount and never seemed to dabble in anything else during their time together. He glanced up into the rearview mirror to catch Otabek’s eyes, but he quickly averted them back to the road.

“Does Viktor have a habit of drinking this heavily?”

“He’s Russian. They drink.” Otabek stated as he pulled more into the city. Yuuri recognized part of the area from his initial visit to the city.

“You know what I mean. He only drank a few times in front of me.”

“Viktor does what Viktor wants. That’s how he’s been since Katya was killed. Hell, even before that. He’s always been such a mess—seems to blame it on his father somehow. He fucked up so bad at Georgi’s one time he almost overdosed. He stops during the fighting season because if he tested positive--he wouldn’t be able to compete. I’m sure his dumbass brain assumed it was all right to start the habit again.” Plisetsky seethed as he stared out the dingy window.

“After hearing what happened. I can’t blame him.”

“A stronger man would have picked up the pieces and did his job.”

“His mother and his wife were killed. What do you expect, Plisetsky?”

“Yeah, and he fucking stole me from my family with his fucked-up version of revenge. He can choke on his vomit for all I care.”

“Stop the car.”

“What?” Otabek called out.

“I said stop the car!” Yuuri ordered with a voice that he never thought he could muster. Otabek immediately swerved to the curb and a chorus of horns followed them. Yuuri swung the door open and dragged Viktor out by his feet. The Russian mumbled incoherently as Yuuri rested him up against the car. He went around to the tinted window of the driver’s side and knocked on it. Otabek rolled it down willingly.

“I don’t care where you guys go, but if that’s what Viktor is going back to--no wonder he doesn’t want to return to the house. After what you told me, Plisetsky. How could you fucking say that? I’m taking him back to his apartment in the city. Hope you’re fucking proud, little Pakhan.” Yuuri said as he pointed at the blond. The look of shock washed over the younger man’s face. He was about to speak before Otabek rolled up the window. He could see the pair arguing in the car as he led Viktor away from the scene.

It was probably a two-block walk from where they were, but it felt like ages. He basically had to hold the entire weight of Viktor on his side as he made it to the apartment. He was surprised with himself that he was able to remember where the place was. Luckily, he was able to get Viktor up the stairs easily before patting around in Viktor’s pockets for his keys. He soon heard the telltale jingle in his right jeans pocket. He fiddled around in the deep pocket before retrieving them.

“At least buy me a drink first, Yuuri.” Viktor elongated his name as he smirked. He was resting against the door jamb still looking terribly wrecked. He wiped a battered hand across his dripping face and exhaled.

“This is serious, Viktor.” Yuuri grunted.

“And I’m serious about you.” Viktor whispered solemnly as he closed in behind Yuuri’s back. Yuuri noted he was palming his ass through his jeans. Yuuri rolled his eyes and finally found what key unlocked the apartment. He tumbled in with Viktor hot on his tail, and he was pushed into the adjacent wall with Viktor closing the door. He was enclosed by Viktor’s burly arms, and his breath was hot against his face. He reeked of cigarettes and cheap alcohol. It wasn’t the usual scent that wafted off the man, and it was quite off putting at the moment. Yuuri tried to recoil away from him, but Viktor only pressed further into him.

Viktor glanced down with hazy eyes and caught sight of the necklace dangling precariously at Yuuri’s throat. His nimble fingers came up to grasp the metal between his forefinger and thumb. He toyed with the charm for a minute before letting it drop back down to his prominent collarbone.

“Yuuri, I am so sorry.” He almost didn’t hear the Russian speak, but he was able to pick up the light sentence. Viktor stepped back and scratched at the back of his neck whilst mumbling to himself. He left Yuuri alone in the doorway as he stumbled over to the kitchen.

Yuuri followed him slowly to see him rummaging around in the upper cabinet above the refrigerator. He yanked out a bottle of vodka and was just uncorking it when Yuuri closed in. He gently took the bottle from Viktor who surprisingly gave it up easily. Once the bottle slipped from his grip, Viktor brought a hand up to his face and covered his eyes.

“I think you’re good for the night, Viktor.”

“Vitya. Please, call me, Vitya. I should’ve let you a long time ago, but I was too afraid.” He said to himself in a small voice. Viktor leaned back against the refrigerator and patted his chest pocket hastily. He yanked out the pack of cigarettes and slipped one into his mouth. Yuuri raised an eyebrow at him as he also rested against a counter.

“At least let me have this.” Viktor slurred back as he ignited the end of the cigarette. Yuuri scrunched his nose up at the smell. It reminded him of home more specifically his chain-smoking sister. She would light one up after the other as she went on and on spinning some tale. The only way he could keep track of time was when she would angrily shake her empty pack at him.

“Are you feeling all right?” Yuuri questioned. His back was starting to ache with the counter digging into his muscles. He hopped up onto the counter gracefully and crossed his ankles one over the other.

“Painkillers wore off, I think. I just have a major buzz right now.” Viktor responded with his cigarette clad hand. He blew the noxious smoke off to his left and pinched the bridge of his nose with shut eyes. “I’ll have to apologize to Georgi tomorrow.”

“Plisetsky is on it.”

A moment a silence passed before Viktor spoke again.

“I heard what you said in the car.” He started with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and almost hacked afterwards, but he just inhaled shakily. “I’m assuming Yura told you?”

“He did. On the car ride over.”

“What a shame. I was hoping to explain.” Viktor stated. Yuuri didn’t mean to make a scoffing noise, but it escaped his throat so easily. Viktor whipped his head over to the other man blowing smoke out from between his pursed lips.

“Like you would have finally explained everything to me.” Yuuri said. “It was a long car ride and a lot to take in.”

“At least you didn’t live it.”

“I wasn’t trying to undermine you.”

“I’m tired. I think I’m going to turn--”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Viktor said as he flicked his cigarette butt into the sink. It sizzled against the metal as the silence grew between the two men.

“I may know most things about you now, but that doesn’t give you the excuse to brush it off any longer. You almost killed a man tonight, Viktor. Are we not going to talk about that?” Yuuri said with his hands raised and visibly shaking.

“Yuuri, I can’t . . .”

“I’m done, Viktor. I was never your captive, but I’m starting to feel like one now.” Yuuri stated while putting his hands up in defeat. He was about to jump off the counter to leave, but he was slammed back against the counters and the granite. He hissed at the sharp contact and put his hands against his attacker’s chest.

“Viktor!”

“Fine! You want me to say it?! I’m fucked up, Yuuri! I am so goddamn fucked in the head that yes, I can’t return to my home. I can’t return to the place where my alcoholic father beat my mother and I for years. Where I watched him drink himself to death! Where I woke up next to my dead wife! I’m terrified because everyone and thing I’ve ever touched just. . . Disappeared. I don’t want that for you. You don’t deserve that.”

Yuuri stared in shock at Viktor’s words. He was trying to form words to respond, but his mouth was so dry. He blinked a few times, but let his hands relax against the fabric of Viktor’s shirt.

“I can’t let anything hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Yuuri finally responded softly as he trailed his hands up the length of his neck. Feeling the rough unshaven hairs on his neck, he wrapped his arms languidly around his neck. Viktor rested his damp forehead against Yuuri’s let out a ragged breath.

“I’m sorry all that happened to you. I am so, so sorry, Vitya.” Yuuri said, and Viktor hummed contently at the use of his nickname. He moved his head to nuzzle the side of Yuuri’s neck as the other man ran his hands through the fine grey hairs. “You can let go for now. Let’s get out of here. We can go back to New York.”

Viktor laughed lowly and placed a chaste kiss to Yuuri’s pulse. “What would we do in New York? We both don’t have the skills for normal jobs.”

“I saw a tiny bookstore for sale in Manhattan. Imagine--surrounded by books all day. You could run the front, and I can do the accounting.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about a lot of things, but we don’t talk about it.” Yuuri murmured, but it soon turned into a gasp as Viktor swiped his coarse tongue against the side of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri used the hand in Viktor’s hair to press him closer to the spot.

“I have a friend in Thailand. He can get us the proper paperwork. Move our money around. It’s a possibility, Vitya.”

“Anything. Anything for you.” Viktor heaved as he craned his head back to capture Yuuri’s mouth with his own. This burning kiss was softer than all the others he had experienced. It was like a different person had taken over Viktor’s body. His movements were gentle and his caresses deeper.

This is what Viktor really was. Just a normal man. Nothing more and nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. :D
> 
> As always come check me out at Tumblr. Reblog my stupid memes or chaaaaat. 
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	16. Act XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, so I completely apologize for such a delay. I went through a time of not really wanting to write. Then I was in the middle of completing a job transition. But I finally got the next chapter out! I didn't realize how close we were to the end until I checked my outline and was like woah, shit. We made it, peeps. There will be 1 more chapter, and then a bonus playlist chapter at the end--Side A and Side B for Viktor and Yuuri. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around and reading as always!

Yuuri could never get Viktor to go back to the house. He tried for three whole days, but the Russian refused to leave from the apartment. It didn't help that he was coming down from the painkillers and whatever vices he had ingested. His mood shifts became a problem especially during mundane tasks. Suddenly exploding at the vacuum when he was trying to clean the area rug in the living room or the time he snapped a pencil to keep from going upstairs to complain to his rowdy neighbors. Yuuri even had to banish him to the shabby couch during dinner one night when Viktor was helping with the dishes lest Yuuri see a plate crumble in his careless hands.

Yuuri plopped down next to Viktor on the couch on the fourth night to observe him aimlessly mess around on his laptop. He was on a webpage looking at airplane tickets. Yuuri choked a bit at the prices, but he remembered having to book flights for himself when he had his other job.

"Japan?" He mused as he noticed the locations Viktor was scouting.

"That's the next step. I have to speak with the Yakuza if we want to . . .have the book store. They would have to leave you and I alone. I'm sure we can make out some sort of deal."

"Minako has most likely gone back to them already." Yuuri explained with a frustrated sigh. He ran a hand through his tresses and leaned against Viktor's bare shoulder. His skin was a bit clammy still, and he heaved raggedly with every breath. He had stopped smoking thankfully as well. Yuuri was happy not to be surrounded by the cancerous stench. Viktor let his left hand inch over to Yuuri's thigh to caress the muscle under his fingertips.

"That doesn't mean we are safe. Plisetsky is coming by today to discuss some matters, but after that we must go to Japan." Viktor stated as he confirmed the overnight flights and slammed his laptop shut. He placed the laptop on the battered coffee table and stood slowly. A few of his bones cracked as he extended his arms lazily above his head and he let out a dull moan at the sensation. A lull went by for a few seconds, but an echo at the front door alerted both the men.

Viktor snapped his head to the front of the apartment and sighed. He made his way to the entrance and let all three men clamber into the cramped apartment.

Plisetsky was the first to take a seat at the dingy dining table—Otabek standing stoically behind him. Plisetsky had his hair tied up out of his face for once and his crimson tie was cinched tightly around his slender neck. He was dressed differently this time around, Yuuri noticed. He dressed like the Pakhan he wanted to be.

Yakov stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his burly chest. He seemed visibly uncomfortable to be in the apartment. His eyes darted around the environment inspecting the dimly lit room.

"Welcome." Viktor had made a grand sweeping motion with his arms before he patted Plisetsky on the back.

"What's this all about, old man?" Plisetsky growled as he leaned back in his seat arms raising above his head to rest behind him.

"So rude, Yura. Patience isn't very hard to maintain." Viktor chided as he leaned against the opposite wall next to the kitchen. He wasn't dressed like these men—he was more casual in his joggers and no top. He didn't have much clothing at the apartment, so it was sort of a blind grab in the morning. Unfortunately, Yuuri had to aid Viktor once or twice when he accidentally crushed himself into one of Yuuri's ragged shirts. He didn't realize how much smaller he was than the Russian until he had to pry off his cotton t-shirt from Viktor's body.

"On with it, Vitya." Yakov solemnly said. "We don't have all day. We already know where this is going."

"Do we?" Plisetsky retorted with a gruff.

"Viktor isn't going to be the Pakhan anymore." Otabek stated.

"Yakov and Otabek are correct, but I am also stepping down in UFC. Retiring. I'd like to make a public announcement in a few weeks after my business in Japan." Viktor explained.

Yuuri gasped from the couch and stood. He knew how much Viktor enjoyed the thrill of the fight. It was like second nature to him, his true home where he felt most relaxed. He couldn't imagine Viktor's life without him competing. It was . . . Honestly the only thing he had left. Yuuri forced the depressing thought from his brain as he stepped closer to the group.

"Viktor, you can't—"

"This isn't your decision, Yuuri. I've been thinking about this and if I—we want to be happy I must do this. I'm done, I'm really . . . _done_. The Nikiforov family is no more, and I'd rather just let it fade. Tell Nikolai he won."

Plisetsky stood as he struck his palms down onto the flimsy table. Yuuri could hear the grind of his teeth from across the room. Plisetsky just stared down at the table with a dead stare as he processed the information. Otabek placed a pensive hand on the young man's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"You're ready, Yura. You've been ready! I was never cut out for this life . . . I'm sorry." Viktor said solemnly as he crossed the room. He placed his hand over one of Plisetsky's and lifted the younger man's face up by his chin.

"I should have never kept what wasn't mine because of my grief. I am sincerely sorry for my father's twisted way of life and in turn . . . taking yours as well. I never really thought on that before, but you can have what you want now. You'd make a better Pakhan than me anyhow—you got the spirit for it." Viktor half laughed at his last comment. Plisetsky let out a shuddering breath as he stood upright. He glanced uneasily around the room at all the eyes on him and sniffed rather loudly.

"Thank you, Viktor." Plisetsky whispered.

"Take care of Yakov. He's getting too old for this." Viktor said as he retracted and turned towards the older man. Yakov had his head tucked into his chest and was shaking slightly.

"Vitya . . ." Yakov started.

"No, don't apologize for anything. The only one who we should feel sorry for is Katya and Mama. They didn't deserve any of this. Take care of her and the house while I'm away." Viktor said before gesturing impatiently to the door. Yuuri knew by Viktor's shaking hands and his quivering breaths that he was trying to keep everything together. He knew Viktor was just trying rush everyone out there before his emotions progressed any further.

The men all stood as they made their way to the entrance of the apartment. Yakov was the last one to turn in the doorway—taking one last look at Viktor. Yakov nodded once to the other Russian and exited the apartment reluctantly with the door clicking dully behind them.

Viktor stood with his fists clenched in the center of the apartment. Yuuri finally made his way over to Viktor and winded his arms around his broad shoulders. Viktor sighed as he brought a fumbling hand up to clench Yuuri's wrists between calloused palms.

"I thought that was going to be more difficult." Viktor murmured.

"Are you happy with your decision?"

"It was never a decision. It was written in stone." Viktor replied easily.

~

"I'm originally from Hasetsu near Kumamoto, but my sister and I moved to Tokyo when I was of age. That's where the . . . family is located. My mother and father live out by Mt. Atago. I haven't seen them in . . . years." Yuuri explained as they hastily walked down the sidewalk. They arrived in Tokyo the previous morning. With no luggage to haul around, since they were just here for business. It was effortless to maneuver the hoards of people for Yuuri since he was used to this sort of overwhelming chaos. Viktor had first remarked on the dazzling lights and compared it to New York. Had it been another life or time, Yuuri would have suggested they settled in Tokyo instead of New York City.

"How do we schedule a meeting with the Oyabun?" Viktor questioned anxiously as they rounded a corner. Yuuri had been leading them for the past hour from the hotel. It was lots of winding roads and tight corners packed with vendors and compact stores. Viktor wasn't used to a metropolis like this. Yuuri found it comical how much taller and larger than everyone Viktor was. He caught quite a few stares as they traversed the city.

"We are going to the tattoo parlor."

"We're what?!" Viktor yelped as he dodged a pedestrian in the walkway.

"Minako can get us a meeting. I'm sure of it." Yuuri stated as he pulled on Viktor's wrist towards a neon lit back street. The back alley was dimly lighted with men hugging the sides of the buildings. Their arms caked with ink and burning cigarettes dangling from their lips. They eyed the pair closely and a few starting mumbling to themselves.

"They're staring at you." Viktor whispered tensely in Russian as he squeezed closer to the Japanese man next to him.

"I'm not surprised."

Yuuri pushed open a glass door and the sound of whirring machines and quiet chatter flowed around them. The parlor went to a standstill as the door chimed with their entrance. A certain man moved from behind the counter towards them. His stare was harsh along with the line his lips were set in as he approached.

 _"Katsuki. You've returned."_ The man stated. Viktor raised his eyebrow between the two men clearly not following the Japanese. Yuuri clasped both his hands together and bowed to the other man. As Yuuri rose from his position however two burly men were at their backs. Viktor was sluggish to react to his knee being kicked in from behind, and Yuuri was pushed forward into the shop's counter. Yuuri looked to Viktor to see him being dragged off to the right side of the parlor and he hollered in Russian viciously. He tried fighting desperately off the other men who had to come restrain him after he started throwing a fit.

The man that was standing before them easily flicked out a knife and began twirling it between his fingers. He was rambling on in Japanese as Yuuri struggled against the stronger man.

"Hey! Stop! It's not Yuuri you want! It's me!" Viktor growled out in English as he thrashed against his hold. One of the brutes yanked his head back by his hair and twisted the strands in his fist.

The wicked man kept going on and on in Japanese, and Yuuri was fully aware of what he intended to do. His right hand was splayed out on the counter and the knife growing dangerously close to his little finger. Yuuri tried once more to fight against the hold, but a shrill whistle cut the air and everyone jerked their heads toward the noise. **[1]**

Minako was emerging from an addition of the parlor yanking off her latex gloves. She snapped her fingers and Yuuri was instantly released. He was tossed to the ground rather harshly, and his knees smacked the hardwood on the way down. Viktor was still kept back by his arms and continued to fight against the three grown men holding him back. Yuuri heaved as his frantic hands hit the ground and he blinked rapidly as his heart thumped against his chest.

"Minako, what's the meaning of this?" Yuuri said almost out of breath, but this time he spoke in English so Viktor could understand. Viktor glanced furiously between the two and growled at seeing the woman who caused him so much pain. He fought a little harder against his restraints.

"You arrived faster than I anticipated." Minako commented bitterly as she stepped towards the pair. "Let the Collector go."

"Don't call me that." Viktor seethed as he picked himself up off the ground. "My business isn't with you, but with the Oyabun."

"The Oyabun does not take unscheduled meetings."

"I'm sure he can make an excuse for me." Viktor flashed one of his artificial smiles. Yuuri knew he was trying to play his charms to his advantage with Minako. She was easily unswayed as she scoffed.

"Your charms won't work on me, Nikiforov. Why are you here with Yuuri?" Minako countered.

"I would like to speak to the Oyabun. Are you deaf?" Viktor snapped and a few men stepped forward. One of them acted promptly to kick Viktor rather roughly in the ribs and Viktor gasped at the sensation. He dropped once more to his knees and clutched his ribs. The others had their nimble hands at the waist ready to draw a weapon at any moment if Viktor acted out again.

Yuuri stood and forcefully pushed between the Russian and his old mentor. He held his hands out in front to keep her at bay as she gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Tell your bear to watch his tongue, Yuuri."

"Minako, if you could grant us a meeting with the Oyabun we would be grateful. Viktor would like to discuss business with him." Yuuri stated sternly. He could feel the heat of Viktor's wrath behind him as the Russian shook in his stance. He didn't need Viktor snapping now, this wasn't the time nor the place. This was Yuuri's decision ultimately to leave the Yakuza, his choice to put himself in danger.

He had fought so hard against his personal opinions on the Yakuza. He enjoyed the thrill of the fight and the cutthroat antics of his ways, but it was empty. So empty after he realized the Yakuza was not the family he really needed. Nothing else had sparked that fire in his life until Viktor came in with lavish smiles and caring touches. Nobody had ever shown him kindness like that . . . even at Viktor's worst no one had treated him better.

"I will send a messenger to Mari's home. After the messenger arrives, you may attend a meeting the following morning. Details will be provided later." She simply replied with a turn of her heel. She sauntered back off into the building away from the pair. Viktor visibly let his shoulders drop as the excessive stress left his body and Yuuri once again took the lead to escape the dingy alley. Viktor stumbled a bit when they stepped outside. His hand still clutching his ribs. He turned once they got to the main street to spit onto the cracked sidewalk. Yuuri instantly noticed the red tinge in his saliva and when he forcibly removed Viktor's hand from his body there was blood splattered on his shirt.

"Stitches must have popped." Viktor wheezed. Yuuri placed Viktor's hand back over the wound and pressed it closer to keep pressure.

They traversed their way back to the heart of the city with haste, and Yuuri told him that they would be going to stay with his sister now. Luckily, they had checked out of the hotel that morning. He hadn't seen his sister in months now hopefully she would be able to stitch Viktor back up. He was almost fearful to see his sister again . . .He would probably receive a few smacks for leaving her behind. Yuuri stood in front of the grand home on the outskirts of the city with Viktor's hand clasped tightly in his own.

"My sister's fiancee is a Yakuza. We have to be careful." Yuuri said as they stepped over cobblestones to reach the doorstep. Yuuri didn't even get to knock by the time the door was flung open. A stockier woman with a cigarette dangling from her mouth leaned against the doorjamb. She had a cocky smile on her harsh face and her arms crossed.

"Hello, Mari." Yuuri said softly.

Mari stole a glance over at Viktor and raised one of her eyebrows. She mumbled something around the cigarette in her mouth, but Yuuri leaned forward to hear better. She cleared her throat and sighed.

"I'm guessing we have to speak English around the bleeding foreigner?" She questioned.

"It would be preferable."

"Come in little brother and blue eyes."

Viktor murmured at his nickname, but Yuuri rolled his eyes as he ushered him inside. The home was still the same from last time, Yuuri recalled. Cozy and simple, sort of like his older sister. She led them to the dining area in the home and motioned for them to sit on the floor around a glossy wooden table. Yuuri sat across from Viktor as Mari came back around the corner with a medical bag and some sake. She instructed Viktor to unbutton his shirt, and he did while wincing. She clicked her teeth as she inspected the bleeding area around his previous gunshot wound. She went straight to work cleaning the wound as Viktor growled lowly in pain.

"So, tell me the deal about Blue Eyes here." Mari said once more as she lit up another cigarette. Yuuri stammered for a second desperately trying to find the right words before Mari let out a cackling laugh. "Whatever you say isn't going to be true. You are obviously seeing each other. No wonder you haven't been home in so long."

"That's not the entirety of it, Mari."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Is your fiancee here?" Yuuri whispered as his bleary eyes scanned the room behind Mari. She responded by shaking her head.

"Viktor was a target then he wasn't. Minako shot him, and we are here to absolve any of my dealings with the Yakuza. I can't stay, Mari . . . and neither should you." Yuuri bluntly explained. Viktor stayed oddly silently as Mari processed all the information. She had paused her cleaning and merely tossed all the bloody cotton pads into a bowl. She leaned over to snag her tweezers and stitches. She glanced up to Viktor and asked in a low voice if he was ready.

He yelped at the first stitch, and she pushed over the bottle of alcohol to him. He kindly refused the drink and preferred to grit his teeth and bare the terrible pain.

"Have you called Phichit?"

"I was going to tonight. I mentioned him to Viktor so that we could obtain other identification. I don't want to constantly be on the run anymore, Mari."

Viktor cleared his throat and sat a bit straighter. The siblings directed their attention on him as he fiddled with his shirt in his lap.

"Mari, if I may call you that, I know what Yuuri is feeling like. I ran for so long away from a life I didn't want, but that was crafted for me. I intend to speak to the Oyabun and settle this-one way or another." Viktor calmly said, and Mari sucked her teeth after his spiel. She leaned back whilst taking a drag from the cigarette. She swiped at his wound once again with the antiseptic and slapped a bandaid onto the wound. Viktor yelped at turned to glare at her as she ashed her smoke into a nearby ashtray.

"No wonder Yuuri wants to leave. You're a looker, Blue Eyes. You care for each other, though. I can see it. Let me know how I can help."

"Is your fiancee still wanting to take over the family?" Yuuri said in a hushed tone.

"What are you getting at, Yuuri?"

"I have the skills. Your fiancee has the access. I can kill him."

Mari slammed her cigarette into the overflowing ashtray at his words, and burning embers flew everywhere. Viktor snuffed them out with his bare hands as the siblings stared each other down. Yuuri's face barely cracked as he kept his composure.

"Absolutely not, Yuuri. You would be a dead man." Mari sneered.

"Not if we do it right."

"I said no, Yuuri." Mari flung her hand out to grasp her brother's hand. Yuuri could feel the strength behind her grasp, but also the slight shiver of apprehension.

"Alright, sister. I promise. We will just talk to him." Yuuri retracted back, but he didn't miss the eye contact between Mari and Viktor. They seemed to be having an internal conversation with each other. And that terrified Yuuri. Once Mari cleaned up her supplies she fluttered into the other room away from the pair.

"What was that about, Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"The look between you two. What are you plotting?"

"Nothing at all, Yuuri. Let's get some rest. It's been a long day." Viktor whispered as he stood. He held his hand out to help Yuuri up off the floor.

They didn't get much time to rest once the doorbell rang. The messenger had came within hours.

Yuuri didn't sleep much that frigid night. Viktor had slipped out of bed around two in the morning, and Yuuri didn't go after him. He was sure Viktor was just off having some alone time. But the loneliness of an empty bed seeped into his brain and kept him stirring all night. Not to mention they had the meeting in the morning.

A meeting they had no plan of action for.

A meeting Yuuri wasn't sure he was ready for mentally. But he had to try.

And try he would, he promised himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] What is happening in this scene is the man (who is anon, but really is Takeshi in my mind) is about to perform Yubitsume on Yuuri. When a member of the Yakuza does something unsatisfactory they are punished by having the tips of their fingers chopped off. They start usually with the little finger, and keep going until there isn't a finger anymore. It's VERY brutal, but I figured it fit with the scene. There is oddly a market for prosthetics for fingers due to this happening I read. 
> 
> Thanks for reading as always and going on this journey with me. 
> 
> You can find me always at:  
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	17. Act XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the kind comments and kudos! I cranked out a lot for y'all this weekend. I hope you enjoy! <3

The following morning when he woke up after only sleeping for three hours something wasn't right.

It was extremely quiet.

Eerily quiet.

He rose from the shallow bed lazily and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had forgotten to take his watch off the previous night, and the band was biting into his skin. He squinted to see the time, but couldn't make out the hands on the watch face. He decided it was likely still morning by how dawn was just still rising. He slipped on a pair of joggers and made his way downstairs. There were faint noises of Mari cooking in the kitchen. She was in the middle of scrambling some eggs viciously when he entered the kitchen.

"Morning, Mar."

She flinched at the sound of his gruff voice before turning. She carried the skillet over with her and dumped a pile of eggs onto his plate. He was already sipping at the scalding coffee placed in front of him. He hissed slightly at the pain, but swished the liquid in his mouth soaking up all the caffeine. He took a few bites of his eggs before surveying the kitchen. He glanced back at his anxious sister and swallowed the left over food in his mouth.

"Where's Viktor? He never came back to bed last night."

Mari didn't answer. She moved back over to shovel more eggs on to his plate silently. Yuuri set his chopsticks down harshly they almost cracked under the pressure of his hand.

"Mari? Where is he?" He questioned firmly."What time is it?"

He rose from the floor and advanced toward Mari-she tried retreating back to the oven. She sighed profoundly and slammed the skillet rather harshly onto the stove top. She pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers and leaned against the counter.

"It's seven-thirty. The meeting is in a half hour . . . He came to me last night and said he had to be there before you." Mari explained. She clasped her hands in together in a praying motion as Yuuri turned from her. He started sprinting to the spare room to find anything to throw on and bolt out the door. She chased after him, her socks sliding against the hardwood.

"Yuuri! Please, don't go. I just got you back, and . . . I don't know what I would do if they took you from me." Mari pleaded as Yuuri tossed shabby clothing around the room to find some semblance of a shirt. Yuuri turned around as he yanked a shirt on and he pushed past Mari to the hallway.

"Where does your fiancee keep his guns?"

"Yuuri, are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

"Mari! Now!" He barked furiously as he glared at her. She growled under her breath as she went into her bedroom to heave a box out from the linen closet. She nudged it with her foot towards Yuuri, and he immediately went digging inside.

"I don't know what you see in him. I know about him. Alcoholic, hot head. He's a bad omen, Yuuri. Dead mother, dead wife-"

"You know nothing!" Yuuri exclaimed bitterly with hands in his dishevelled hair. "He is a horrible man! He's done horrible things, and he was molded into that from shitty things that happened to him! I get it! It doesn't excuse his bad acts, but fuck, if he isn't trying to fix himself now. It's better than fucking never. He's sacrificing himself for me right now, and I'll be damned if he gets away with ruining his life for a piece of shit like me."

Mari stood silently as Yuuri huffed to himself. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and tears pricked his eyes. Mari tried to reach for his hands, but he flinched away at her touch.

"You aren't shitty, Yuuri. You just were put in a bad situation."

"You're being hypocritical." Yuuri scoffed with a wave of his hand. "You can't justify my upbringing making me a shitty person when you're using it against Viktor just because you're scared."

"I am scared, Yuuri. I'm forced into this marriage, and my brother is fucking killer."

Killer.

The word stung him like boiling water and his frantic eyes connected with Mari's sorrowful ones. He shook his head as he slipped a pistol into the waistband of his jeans and turned to exit the room. Mari finally seized a hold of his wrist and tried jerking him back. He didn't budge in his place as Mari held back tears.

"Yuuri, I'm sorry. This should have never happened to us."

"Apologizing doesn't fix it. Actions do. I'm going to fix this now. Goodbye, Mari." Yuuri stated and pried his hand free from her grasp.

He recalled from the messenger that the meeting was going to take place at the tattoo parlor. His feet carried him as quickly as he could back to the crooked alley. He hastily knocked people out of his way as he ran. His lungs burning with every breath and his muscle pulling with every stomp. It didn't take him long to arrive at the parlor. Nobody was posted outside, luckily.

He shoved his shoulder into the door and burst through into the main entrance. His eyes scanned trying wildly to find a speckle of silver hair. He could hear low murmurs towards the back of the building so he followed the noises. He smelled a hint of smoke coming from the backroom, and he peaked between the cracks in the door. He let his hand drift down to grasp the butt of his gun.

During a lull in rapid conversation Yuuri stepped warily into the room while slamming the door open. Multiple bodyguards for the Oyabun unsheathed their guns and aimed directly for him. He had his eyes focused on the frail Japanese man at the head of the table. His gun directed at him aiming between his eyes. Viktor's back was to him, but he could see the Russian visibly stiffen.

"Yuuri," Viktor started with a gentle voice.

"Whatever is happening, it stops right now. Viktor, let's go." Yuuri demanded. He never let his eyes leave the Oyabun as he carefully stepped to stand behind Viktor. Once safely behind the Russian Yuuri glanced down to note massive amounts of paperwork littered in front of Viktor. All of them were adorned with his signature. He recalled what the scribble looked like from when he signed autographs in New York.

"Viktor, get up."

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"Silence, Russian." The Oyabun spoke with a booming voice. He had his hand raised, and Viktor bowed his head at the sound. Seeing a submissive Viktor was startling to Yuuri. This was a man who commanded the room whenever he waltzed in.

"What's the meaning of this?" Yuuri exclaimed.

"Katsuki. Pleased you could join us. I was afraid I would have to send a messenger with this news." The Oyabun said with a chuckle as he raised a cup of scalding tea to his lips. He blew lazily at the hot drink before sipping. Yuuri was growing impatient. He could feel how hard he was gritting his teeth and sweat was starting to dribble down his temple.

"What news?"

"You may speak, Russian. Gentlemen, please, excuse my guards and I." The Oyabun stated as he rose from his sitting position. He was assisted up by a few younger men and groaned once he stood upright. He was about to exit when he turned around. He clicked his tongue a few times and pointed at Viktor. "I'll see you soon."

Once the door was shut behind them Yuuri lowered his weapon and dropped to his knees. It felt like all the air was yanked from his lungs. It was getting increasingly harder to breathe, and his sight was shaky. He almost wished he was blind. He wouldn't have seen those contracts. Contracts he was familiar with.

"I thought you were done."

"I am done." Viktor stated as he moved to place his hands on Yuuri's upper arms. "Yuuri, I love the person you are. You are so much better than I am. You didn't let any darkness change you-you stayed true to who you are."

Viktor's voice cracked suddenly and Yuuri shifted his gaze from the floor up to his face. Viktor was crying. The emotional tears weren't running down his face, but dribbling out. He was still trying to hold back the pain and everything he was sacrificing.

"I had to do this. We would have walked into a suicide mission."

"What did you do?" Yuuri's voice was so inaudible he practically couldn't hear himself. Viktor's hands rubbed calming circles into the strained muscles in Yuuri's arms. He was trying to hard to keep the sobs at bay. He was too late-if he had just woken up sooner, if he had just . . .

"I signed papers to fix fights for them. Win fights or take a dive." **[1]**

"Viktor, I can't believe you would do this."

"You have twenty-four hours to leave the country. Mari too. I called your friend in Thailand. Here." Viktor ignored Yuuri's words as he pressed a manila folder into his hands. Yuuri crumpled the edges in his hands as he clutched the papers to his chest. "I wired money to off shore accounts for you. Start the bookstore."

"I can't . . . that was our plan."

"Make it your plan, Yuuri. I never thought I'd feel anything ever again. I went through years of women and men, drinking, pills and winning fights just to feel nothing after Katya passed. No inspiration. I treated people like dirt because I felt like that's what I owed them after what the world did to me. But that's not how the world works. When you have something," He paused to grasped Yuuri's face in his hands. He traced his thumbs across the man's sharp jawline. "You protect it. I failed to protect things my whole life, but I was not going to fail this time."

"Viktor,"

Viktor leaned forward to place his chapped lips against the Japanese man's. The kiss wasn't very long since both were out of breath already. Yuuri sighed as Viktor retracted from the chaste kiss, and he yanked Viktor forward to heave him into a crushing hug.

"I'm giving you the chance to be free because you deserve it. I don't yet."

"Yes, you do."

"No, not yet." Viktor whispered as he stood bringing Yuuri up by his hands. He smoothed out the wild tresses strewn across Yuuri's forehead and smiled fondly at the other man. "When I do, you bet, that I will come sprinting."

"This isn't goodbye." Yuuri stated towing him in again by the nape of his neck. Yuuri's kiss was different. It was wild, burning and everything he possessed within him poured into it. Viktor hummed at the feel of his lips brushing against his own.

"You washed away my misery. I could never repay you more for that. I'll be seeing you, Yuuri." Viktor whispered into the crown of his head before lightly directing Yuuri towards the door. Yuuri took three hesitant steps before whipping around to capture one last look.

He had too.

He couldn't let his mind forget the way his smile reached his eyes, the way his hair shimmered in the light. He never wanted to lose the sound of his voice.

But Viktor was gone.

He wouldn't forget. He _couldn't_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] To take a dive means to throw a fight on purpose. 
> 
> Thank you for checking out and staying with this story! I love everyone's input and have been elated you took this journey with me. If you wanna scream with me just find me at:
> 
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	18. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. At the end, I cut the two chapters up for reading purposes so we weren't flying into the next scene. I struggled a lot with the ending of this story. I actually had three separate endings that I had drafted out and written. I decided to go with this route. If you wish to know the endings, you can always ask me on my Tumblr! This was a really fun take on the genre and I had such a great time writing this for me and you guys. I'll see you on the next project! :D

"You haven't talked about Vincent in awhile. Are you still speaking with him?"

"He's been busy with work, and it's hard for him to communicate when he's traveling."

"Are you upset with the lack of contact?"

"No, of course not. Any contact lights up my day, doc."

Yuuri would have never believed in a million years he would ever be so casual with a shrink. Dr. Leroy was different, however. He was one of the most relaxing people to talk to. He did have a tendency to go off on tangents about himself. Yuuri found it a pleasant distraction. The doctor even had his own band that played at a bar around the corner from his house. He had attended a show or two and actually didn't mind the music.

"Are you doing anything this weekend?"

"Yes, I have plans to go out to the clubs with my sister. She says I need to get out more plus I'm pretty sure she's seeking a boyfriend." Yuuri nonchalantly mentioned.

"Are you nervous?"

Yuuri slyly smiled as he stirred the straw in his coffee comfortably. "Absolutely not."

He didn't spend much longer inside of his shrink's private office and was set on foot back to his establishment. Fortunately, the walk wasn't that far and after living in New York City for a year and a half traversing the city was rather easy. He probably could blindly walk about the city now for how often he spent time strutting down the walkways. He still preferred walking than take the subways.

After rounding the corner he spotted Mari high above on a ladder. She had a cloth in hand and was working diligently to tenderly wipe any dirt from their shop sign. As she swiped the soap away, the sign blared aggressively crimson back at him.

Eros.

"Hey, Mar." Yuuri called from below.

"Yuuri! How was Leroy's?"

Yuuri shrugged as he held the ladder steadily. She wobbled down the contraption and tossed the dirty rag into the bucket.

"Do I have any appointments today? You know I tend to forget."

"Yeah, you have comped cover-up at two and at six you have consultation and ink session. He called this morning. First tattoo."

"Great," Yuuri said sarcastically as he leaned against the wall.

"Did we get the shipment of that new World War II biography in at Agape?"

"Yeah, Phichit sorted them all out this morning and we almost sold out." Mari laughed at her statement as she opened the door for Yuuri. He sauntered leisurely into his tattoo parlor and reveled in the familiar sound of the whirring machines. A couple of people were getting inked, and he was delighted to see both of his businesses blooming. He figured there was never going to be a chance in hell for his tattoo parlor since there was already so many notable ones around.

But he started marketing cleverly, thanks to his business adviser, Phichit. After he blew through an apprenticeship when he arrived to the States he immediately enlisted his friend to aid with his business. Even paid for his travels to the States. The Thai man was obsessed with social media, so his popularity skyrocketed when the millennials found out there was a bookstore/cafe connected to a tattoo parlor. He thought of maybe applying for a liquor license for the cafe. He knew the hipsters immensely enjoyed their IPAs.

His first appointment went by without a hitch. It was a cover-up that was completely free of charge for the customer. Another contributing factor Yuuri wanted to bring into the mix was cover ups for anybody with tattoos from their incarcerations. He felt a kinship with some of them so any that wanted to reform themselves he accepted with open arms. He had about fifteen minutes until his consultation and perhaps actual tattooing session. There wasn't any initials written down for the client, so he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting.

When the chime of his front door sounded, he wasn't expecting a rather tall man to saunter in. His skin was like porcelain and his eyes bright as ever. He had on a snapback hat, but it was on backwards. A few tufts of his hair poked out of the front and blew slightly in the air conditioned store front. The man grinned widely as he stepped forward with an outstretched hand.

"I'm looking for Katsuki Yuuri?"

He would know that voice anywhere. He regularly received calls from this man.

"Vincent!" Yuuri stuttered out as he took a few steps forward to shake the man's hand.

"It's great to finally meet you, Yuuri." The man replied with a heartfelt smile.

Yuuri had started talking to Vincent about three months after his departure from Tokyo. And he excitedly waited every other evening for calls from the man.

"What are you doing here?"

"I have an appointment! I don't have any tattoos, remember?"

Yuuri chuckled delightedly as he released the man's hand. "But you wouldn't want to ruin that pretty skin."

"I'm already ruined, darling." The man purred lowly. Yuuri blushed at the voice he used, but led him back to his workshop. He had sketches littered all over the place, so he cleaned up a few as he went by. He shoved them away into a folder, and eagerly snatched a few drawing utensils.

"So, what are you looking to get Vincent?"

"I want an arrow tattooed on the inside of my right forearm." Vincent explained as he stroked the skin of his right forearm. Yuuri made eye contact with Vincent to make sure it was okay to grab his arm. Vincent nodded and rested his arm on the table.

"Do you mind if I free hand it with a sharpie?"

"Whatever you think is best, darling."

Yuuri uncapped a sharpie with his teeth and teethed at the cap in his mouth as he went to work. He knew how Vincent was after talking with him for so long. He may be a bit extravagant with his clothing, dining habits, or the way he talked-but he knew he would want something minimal. Something that wouldn't bring considerable attention. Arrows tended to mean finally have the courage to move forward in your life. At least that was what Yuuri was often told by his clients. He never really knew the true meaning of some tattoos. Each tattoo had a unique meaning to someone else. He would have to show Vincent his most recent additions to his own body. Pictures never did justice.

"I missed you." Yuuri absentmindedly muttered as he flicked the sharpie against his flawless skin to create the decorative feathers.

"I missed your voice." Vincent whispered back. His idle hand coming out to rest on Yuuri's thigh. He sighed contently at the feeling. It had been so long since he felt something like that. Sparks. It was new. It was inspiring.

"All right, this is what I have."

It was a straightforward design. A straight line in the middle with two dots adorning the front of the arrow body. The arrowhead was lightly shaded, but the brilliant feathers were fluffed out and wild. Yuuri figured Vincent would like that subtle touch of chaos in his distinctive tattoo.

"I love it, darling."

"Perfect. Let's get started." Yuuri said as he capped the sharpie and went to work sanitizing his station.

Vincent took to the needles quite well surprisingly. He was nervous he was going to squirm at first or feel just the first prick and immediately want out. The process didn't last longer than forty minutes with no breaks. Vincent however went on and on about his most recent travels and recounted tales about far off lands. Yuuri especially like the story about Vincent running into his Swiss friend once more.

"He's engaged! I was so happy for him especially after I had given him a fright the last time we saw each other." Vincent chuckled.

"You made him vomit in an alleyway. I don't know if that's from fright or trauma."

"Ah, we can hash out the details later. I'll ask him at his wedding." Vincent retorted as Yuuri used his green soap to finally wipe away any excess ink on Vincent's skin. All black had been the perfect choice to pop on his creamy skin. Yuuri was exceedingly proud of himself. It was most likely one of his best works in the minimalist category. Vincent instantly leaped up from the chair as he snatched his snapback off of the table. He placed it back on his head and turned to glance at himself in the mirror. He looked at his arm in a bunch of various angles. He grinned foolishly at the unique design and turned on his heels back towards Yuuri.

"Yuuri, I adore it. I adore you! My god, this is a wonderful piece of art." Vincent exclaimed joyfully as he stepped forward. "This is what you should have always been doing."

Yuuri smiled sheepishly, and yelped as Vincent hauled him in for a crushing embrace.

"Vik-Vincent! Your arm. I have to wrap it."

"Oh, yeah. Let's do that. It's burning a tad."

A few wraps of saran and Vincent was completely ready to head out. He tried paying Yuuri but the Japanese man kindly refused saying it's on the house.

"Yuuri, since I'm in town tonight, would you like to go clubbing with me?" Vincent questioned as he was getting ready to leave.

The rest of the shop had cleared about by this time. Even Mari had headed home. It was just Yuuri left to lock up, so he knew he couldn't pass up the opportunity. His sister did say he had to get out more.

"As long as we can play a fun drinking game." Yuuri responded promptly. Vincent edged closer and winded an arm around his waist to yank the other man closer. His breath washed over the shorter man's face as he gazed at the marvel before him.

"What? Like beer pong?"

"I'm thinking more like Russian Roulette. You ever play it?"

Vincent grinned slyly and leaned in closer to nuzzle his nose against Yuuri's cheek. "Can't say I have."

"I was in St. Petersburg once. This crazy club. Some guy showed me how to play it. God, he was _attractive_. I still have his number. I think I should give him a call. See if he can make a trip to the States." Yuuri said while running his hands up Vincent's sides with deft fingers.

"Yuuri! I'm offended!" Vincent said while flinging an arm over his eyes.

"God, you are so fucking ridiculous, Viktor." Yuuri sighed as he rolled his eyes. Viktor shushed him immediately with laughs hidden behind his noises.

"You'll blow my cover!"

"Don't need a cover anymore when you're free." Yuuri responded with a gentle voice. He ran his hands up to toy with the grey strands poking out of Viktor's hat. He shook his head and ripped off the hat. "When the hell did you start wearing snapbacks?"

"All the cool kids do it."

"Viktor, you're almost thirty-two. Let it go, old man."

"I missed you." Viktor reiterated their exchange earlier. He pressed his forehead into Yuuri's and he lured the man's body closer to him as well. "Thank you, again. For everything."

"It was time. Your turn to experience freedom."

Viktor had a slight smile on his face. Yuuri spotted a few tears at the corner of his eyes as he retracted from their fond embrace to head towards the front of the shop. He took a few steps before turning around. The door was halfway ajar as he gazed at Yuuri.

He never did forget the way he looked. Not in that year and a half they had to endure away from each other. All the sneaking around at fights Yuuri would travel to catch even a glimpse of the man. All the side deals Yuuri had with the Yakuza to release Viktor from their grasps. Not to mention with the F.B.I.

Being an informant had it's perks.

"Yuuri, you do realize I have no idea which direction is home. Are you coming?"

Yuuri snapped out of his daze and fixed the backpack strap on his shoulder.

"Yeah, Vitya. Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end! For now. I had a couple side stories in my head maybe, but haven't drafted them out. Thank you all for your support by reading and all the great comments. I've never felt accepted in a community like the YOI community. Speaking of continuing or other projects I will be drafting up my next one. However! I do like taking requests or prompts, you can find me at Tumblr or if you prefer AO3 go ahead and leave a comment about it! I read all comments and almost always respond within a day. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this ending, but like I said there was alternate ways I could have ended this. I have the drafts if anybody is curious just ask!
> 
> Next two chapters will be playlist chapters, please read the full story before venturing to those because they contain spoilers. 
> 
> Thank you, again. Y'all are lovely. 
> 
> Come find me or talk at:  
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


	19. Side A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side A is Yuuri's playlist. I honestly struggled with Yuuri's side so much more than I did Viktor's. I left little notes (they will be _italicized_ ) with each song as well. I want to thank Jameskidding here on AO3 and Tumblr for helping me with these! You rock, friend. UwU. 
> 
> You can find all these songs on Spotify to my knowledge if that makes anything easier. :D

**Katsuki Yuuri Side A**

1\. Go Fuck Yourself - Two Feet

_This one mainly sets the tone for Yuuri's current life. We might not see him as this promiscuous, but the under beats in the song and just the overall lifestyle fit nicely to start his story line._

2\. Criminal - COASTLWOLF

_This is more of the same of the same description above. Sometimes I envision songs with the scene I am depicting. This definitely is a bumping soundtrack that could have reared up during Yuuri's tax ride to Mid-Section and him scoping Viktor out in the bar._

3\. OOO AAA - Cathedrals

_I mostly think of flashes of the ride back to Viktor's apartment when hearing this song. It was actually the song I sort of mentioned in story with low beats as they're getting frisky in the back of the vehicle. It has a very calming electro beat to be a backdrop song._

4\. Dear Fellow Traveller - Sea Wolf

_This is more of a ambiance song about how Yuuri feels about joining Viktor's crew. The line that really struck me was, "To Pull me from myself again. And in our travels. We found our roads. You held it like a mirror, showing me the life I chose."_

5\. Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier

_I feel like this is definitely a background song for Yuuri. Just about his thoughts on his past and what not. It's a very mellow ambiance song._

6\. Trust - Boy Epic

_I mentioned this song earlier during the scene in NYC when Viktor and him are boxing each other. I actually believe this song relates to both of them, but more so Yuuri as he gravitates to trusting Viktor more. Especially when he is brought into one of Viktor's safe spaces i.e. the gym._

7\. Horns - Bryce Fox

_We don't get a huge insight to Yuuri's dangerous side. This I feel like kind of sees into it. I may write a side one-shot about Yuuri during this time. I haven't decided yet, but if a prompt comes available or if anybody would like to request a certain circumstance feel free to send them my way!_

8\. Run Boy Run - Woodkid

_This I envisioned after Yuuri's encountered with Minako after Viktor's attempted assassination._

9\. Human by Rag'n'Bone Man

_This is kind of a background song again, but could have been a situational song during their flight back to Russia or many other circumstances. This feels like a inner turmoil song for Yuuri in my opinion._

10\. Killer + The Sound - Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Gundersen

_More of conjoined song again with Yuuri and Viktor. Obviously the female counterpart is Yuuri's side. I think it's quite a lovely song depicting the evilness within someone and how you can still find a way to show them love no matter what. A reoccurring theme I kept with Yuuri is how he didn't speak much about his job and how he felt it was not tasteful to bring it up. However Viktor has shown multiple times to not be warded off by the subject. As I said prior I might do a one-shot maybe within the after timeline about them speaking about it._

11\. Rain Clouds - The Arcadian Wild

_So, Yuuri definitely admitted his feelings to Viktor way before he did. I kind of see this song somewhere inputted in the apartment when Yuuri was helping Viktor down from his binge. This song kind of portrays how he pulls Viktor from the darkness to really profess his feelings and aid Viktor with his demons via his emotions. The line that stuck with me was, "Listen to my voice. Close your frightened eyes. Hide behind my love for you. Fear's only a choice. One that we all make someday."_

12\. Snow - Ricky Montogomery

_I mostly put this song in here because of one line. "Oh, and when we go I'll try not to be so slow." They way I interpreted it was definitely the reuniting of the two. Especially the differences of kisses between them. Yuuri's is passionate and longing. Viktor's was sweet and thoughtful because Yuuri's longing was more apparent. Viktor was still holding back some of his feelings because he doesn't show them very well, but that's just how he shows love._

13\. Messed Up - Once Monsters, Chloe Adams

_The story was named after a song, but I felt like this song was more of overall premise of both these characters. They work together through their shit no matter how horrible they both are, how they floated to each other, and can't let go after connecting so well. The male voice in my head is definitely Viktor and the female is Yuuri just because of the opposing lyrics._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just my take on the songs I gathered for this side track, but please take a listen and interpret your own way! I'd love to hear songs you might have thought of while reading, or what you think each song means to you. See you on Side B (personally my favorite side).


	20. Side B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to Viktor's Side. As I mentioned before I complied this one so much faster. I enjoy all the songs, but I felt like these flowed a bit more if you understand. Once again thanks to Jameskidding--you da best for listening to me frantically whine about the songs and help me. :D I included Author's Notes again and they will be _italicized_

**Viktor Nikiforov Side B**

1\. Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! at the Disco

_This is Pakhan Viktor song. This I feel like would be a cinematic in my head of Viktor's accomplishments in the UFC world, flashes of charismatic Viktor in bars/during criminal dealings._

2\. Dangerous (feat. Joywave) - Big Data, Joywave

_Atmospheric song. Definitely when Viktor was lounging about the bar in the second chapter or even just a montage of Pakhan dealings._

3\. Victorious - Panic! at the Disco

_Obviously this is when Viktor won his match._

4\. Monsters - Ruelle

_I could see this being a background tune during the poker scene when they are walking the casino floor. Just the subtle fear of the mafia bosses._

5\. Serial Killer - Moncrief, JUDGE

_Viktor is very reserved, but I could see this how he feels about Yuuri. He knows about his life, and in my author knowledge I know that he most likely had Otabek research Yuuri. So he probably had more information than Yuuri knew. So despite all of Yuuri's terrible things he had done, Viktor still cares about him._

6\. Liar - The Arcadian Wild

_This entire song is just Viktor in my opinion. And honestly the entire song I could put down as excerpts about how Viktor is. The most notable one to me is, "I sense deception to come. Honestly, truth and I are never one. 'Cause I am the lying man and I have made you my next victim." This honestly is my favorite song from all 26 songs I mention on both sides._

7\. 18th Floor Balcony - Blue October

_This song is all about Viktor's feelings towards Katya. The section specifically I aimed this towards was the balcony scene when they are just sitting together. I was very happy how well Katya was received by all of you, and I felt awful for what I had to do with her character but she was such a big motivator for Viktor's character._

8\. Hör ich das Liedchen klingen (Schumann Dichterliebe No 10) - Heinrich Heine

_This is one of the saddest songs in my opinion to ever be composed. If you do not speak German, I definitely recommend looking up a translation of this song. This is to reflect on Viktor's mother and Katya being taken from him._

9\. Are Things Still Burning - Em Harriss, Dials

_This relates directly to Viktor's hatred to the house he refuses to return to._

10\. Woke the Fuck Up (Acoustic) - Jon Bellion

_As the story tells Viktor had a time expressing emotions. This songs correlates to him actually cracking and admitting his feelings namely in the apartment when he's dragged there from the bar with Yuuri. More so an inner realization._

11\. Take the Fall - JAXSON GAMBLE

_When Viktor goes to the Yakuza alone to surrend himself to them to clear Yuuri of all debt. This is pretty straightforward as well._

12\. Rose Colored Lenses - Elizia

_This is sort of like Yuuri's song Snow where it's when they meet again. Viktor's clean slate is here, and he's ready to start again. He's ready for the deeper side of love once more now that he has atoned. And he wants to do it properly this time._

13\. Messed Up - Once Monsters, Chloe Adams

_The story was named after a song, but I felt like this song was more of overall premise of both these characters. They work together through their shit no matter how horrible they both are, how they floated to each other, and can't let go after connecting so well. The male voice in my head is definitely Viktor and the female is Yuuri just because of the opposing lyrics._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just my take on the songs I gathered for this side track, but please take a listen and interpret your own way! I'd love to hear songs you might have thought of while reading, or what you think each song means to you. I honestly had a tremendously easier time as I said gathering songs for Viktor rather than Yuuri, and I felt bad since he was technically our protagonist! 
> 
> This is the end of One Way or Another, and thank you **EVERYONE** again for reading. You all light up my life.
> 
> Once more, I'm reachable on my tumblr for anything! Even if you just wanna say hi.  
> https://aphoticwriter.tumblr.com


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